Whatever Souls are Made of
by elliehigginbottom
Summary: For almost three years now Harry and Ginny have continued on as if it never happened; as if this colossal thing was not weighing down on them. You can't just read a diary and save a life without consequences. Now, at age fifteen, Harry is finally seeing that he and Ginny are far more tangled than he ever realized. New Epic Length novel! Beta-ed!
1. Chapter 1

**AN: **The only thing I'd like to say is that the genius belongs JK Rowling, and I am merely playing on her vast stage.

* * *

_"It is as if I had a string somewhere under my left ribs. Tightly and inextricably knotted to a similar string situated in a corresponding quarter of your little frame, and if that boisterous channel and two hundred miles or so of land come broad between us, I am afraid that cord of communion will be snapped, and then I've a nervous notion I should take to bleeding internally."_

- Charlotte Bronte,

Jane Eyre

* * *

"Come on then," Ginny told him, "if we get a move on we'll be able to save them places."

Harry looked down at Ginny for a moment, before letting out a breath, "Right," he replied, picking up Hedwig's cage in one hand and the handle of his trunk in the other. They struggled off down the corridor, in the opposite direction that Ron and Hermione were taking, peering through the glass-paneled doors into the compartments they passed, which were already full. Harry could not help noticing that a lot of people stared back at him with great interest and that several of them nudged their neighbors and pointed him out. After he was met with this behavior from five consecutive carriages Harry remembered that the Daily prophet was still circulating stories of what a lying show-off he was. His shoulders tensed, and his grip on his trunk tightened as he wondered if everyone believed the articles.

As he continued down the corridor, Ginny suddenly looked back at him, with a look telling Harry that she too noticed the increased interest. Harry let out a long huff, followed by a tired shrug. He thought he really should be used to this type of negative attention by now.

Ginny just returned a dramatic roll of her amber eyes, "Idiots," she remarked offhandedly, and Harry felt the corners of his mouth tug upwards. His body began to relax as he followed Ginny further down the train corridor.

In the very last carriage they met Neville Longbottom, his round face shining with the effort of pulling his

trunk along and maintaining a one-handed grip on his struggling toad, Trevor.

"Hey Harry," he panted. "Hi, Ginny...Everywhere's full...I can't find a seat."

"What are you talking about?" asked Ginny, who had squeezed past Neville to peer into the compartment behind him. Loony Lovegood in here -"

Neville mumbled something about not wanting to disturb anyone.

"Don't be silly," said Ginny, laughing, "She's all right."

Harry shot Neville a questioning look, as he followed Ginny into the carriage. Which Neville returned with raised eyebrows.

"Hi Luna," said Ginny. "It's okay if we take these seats?"

The girl beside the window looked up. Harry found himself being introduced to Luna Lovegood, a fourth year Ravenclaw. By the looks of her, the nickname Loony Lovegood seemed very fitting. The blonde haired, radish earring wearing girl recognized him immediately. Neville did his best to not be introduced to the Ravenclaw girl, but Ginny would tolerate none of his rude behavior. Harry did his best to suppress a grin.

Luna added an altogether absurd comment, while Harry and Neville caught eyes and Ginny suppressed a chuckle. These exchanges were all unbeknownst to Luna, who had her nose back into her upside down copy of a magazine Harry had never heard of before, The Quibbler.

"Guess what I got for my birthday," Neville interjected into the awkward silence.

Harry guessed another Remembrall, but was surprised when Neville dug into his school bag and dug out a small gray cactus in a pot.

"Mimbulus mimbletonia," he said proudly. Harry looked with some trepidation as the plant pulsated slightly, giving it a sinister look of some diseased internal organ. Harry noticed Ginny looking at the plant nervously as well. Herbology was Neville's favorite subject, but there were some plants that were just too odd for even the keenest Herbologists' to like.

Harry politely asked if there was anything special about the grotesque plant. To this Neville replied enthusiastically about its defense mechanism, quickly shoving Trevor the toad, into Harry's lap, and grabbing a quill to poke the cactus. Suddenly, liquid squirted from every boil on the plant, thick, stinking, dark green jets of it; they hit the ceiling, the windows, and spattered Luna Lovegood's magazine. Ginny gave out a sharp yelp as she threw her hands up to cover her face. At the sound, Harry instinctively grabbed her round the shoulders and pulled her to his chest. Using his arms to cover her face from the spray.

As the plant settled, stopping its disgusting onslaught, Harry looked round the compartment. Neville was completely covered by the dark green slime, Luna's magazine was splattered, and as he let go of Ginny, it looked like she had been mostly spared. Minor splotches on her arms and some on her neck.

Harry on the other hand got a face full, due to his effort to protect Ginny. It smelled of rancid manure. Ginny pulled herself out of Harry's arms and looked up at him. Harry released his hold on her and shot her a look that said something akin to, "_this compartment?_"

As Harry spat out a mouthful of the slime, Ginny burst into laughter finding Harry's state altogether too funny to compose herself. "Yeah, it's hilarious," Harry commented unamusedly to the chuckling girl, as he wiped his face off.

"S-sorry," Neville gasped. "I haven't tried that before...Didn't realize it would be quite so...Don't worry though, Stinksap is not poisonous," he added nervously, as Harry attempted to wipe his dripping hand on a still laughing Ginny.

At that precise moment the door of their compartment slid open.

"Oh...hello, Harry," said a nervous voice. "Um, bad time?"

Harry wiped the lenses of his glasses with his Stinksap-free hand. A very pretty girl with long, shiny black hair was standing in the doorway smiling at him; Cho Chang, the seeker on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team.

Harry immediately straightened. "Oh...hi," said Harry awkwardly, sneaking a peek at the girl sitting beside him. Ginny's face was expressionless as she read the sticky pages of Luna's magazine.

"Um..." said Cho. "Well...just thought I'd say hello."

"Hi," Harry repeated reflexively, and he felt his cheeks flush.

"Will you be playing Quidditch this year?" the dark-haired girl asked with a demure smile, before the scent of the Stinksap seemed to hit her nose.

"Uh, plan to," Harry answered simply; finding it difficult to formulate sentences.

But Cho didn't seem to mind. "Well, I guess I'll see you on the pitch, then?" she added as she rubbed her hand over her mouth, seeming to want to block out the smell.

"Sure," Harry agreed eagerly, before she waved off, leaving the four alone once more in the rank compartment.

Cho closed the door again, rather pink in the face, and departed. Harry slumped back in his seat and groaned. He would have liked Cho to discover him sitting with a group of very cool people laughing their heads off at a joke he had just told; he would not have chosen to be sitting with Neville and Loony Lovegood, and dripping in Stinksap.

Neville and Luna went back to trying to clean themselves up, and Harry found himself looking over at Ginny once again. Her posture was stiff and her cheeks were a bit flushed. Harry had a sneaking suspicion that she was doing her best to avoid looking at him.

"Look, Ginny, about Cho," He whispered to her, leaning closer to avoid the chance of Neville or Luna overhearing them. Ginny's amber eyes widened before she shot Harry a sharp glare.

"Harry," Ginny warned, pulling her straightened finger across her throat in warning, to stop the conversation immediately.

Harry promptly hushed, as he nodded in compliance. She was right. They did not need to discuss it in front of anyone else.

Ginny seemed to shake herself. "Never mind," she said bracingly, vehemently refusing to look over to Harry. "Look, we can get rid of all this easily." She pulled out her wand. "_Scourgify_!"

The Stinksap vanished.

"Sorry," said Neville again, in a small voice.

Ron and Hermione did not turn up till nearly an hour later. The compartment was quiet all the while. Harry and Ginny doing their best to avoid the need to converse. After the trolley had been around and Harry, Ginny and Neville had finished their pumpkin pasties and their chocolate frog cards were swapped, Hermione and Ron finally joined the odd group.

Harry felt a great amount of relief to see his friends, and immediately engaged them in conversation; curious to know what had gone on in the prefect meeting. Ron, quickly told the compartment of Malfoy's appointment to Slytherin prefect, while making himself comfortable in a seat next to Harry on the bench.

Ron's pointy elbows caused Harry to have to scoot closer to Ginny, their shoulders touching due to the confined space. Harry wondered if Ginny too felt the ease he did, when they were close. Based on Ginny's uncomfortable shifting next to him, he guessed she did not.

Ron and Hermione proceeded to go down the list of the fifth year prefects, discussing what they thought of the choices. Luna continued to make ludicrous interjections much to the compartment's amusement. The fourth year Ravenclaw seemed particularly entertained by Ron's conjectures in the conversation. Luna even remembered that Ron had taken Padma Patil to the Yule Ball last year; describing Padma's feelings on Ron being a lousy date. Harry found himself chuckling, but couldn't fault his friend. Harry had the sneaking suspicion that Parvati, Padma's sister, and Harry's date to the ball, would say the same thing about him.

The only positive thing that came out of his night at the Yule Ball last year, was the conversation he'd had with Ginny, during their one shared dance. Although, Harry had a feeling he had just mucked that up earlier...

Soon Luna was explaining the odd magazine, The Quibbler, to the confused group. Harry nearly laughed as he read a featured article detailing how his Godfather, Sirius Black, was not the 'Notorious Mass Murderer,' he was accused of being, but rather an, "Innocent Singing Sensation," who just wanted his privacy. Harry found himself missing Sirius already. Wondering when he would get to talk to him again.

A few minutes after reading the article, Malfoy showed up at their compartment, gloating over his new position of power.

"What?" Harry said aggressively, before Malfoy could open his mouth.

"Manners, Potter, or I'll have to give you a detention," drawled Malfoy, whose sleek blond hair and pointed chin were just like his father's. "You see, I, unlike you, have been made a prefect, which means that I, unlike you, have the power to hand out punishments." Harry found himself shifting in his seat so Ginny was slightly behind him.

"Yeah," said Harry, "but you, unlike me, are a git, so get out and leave us alone."

Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Neville laughed. Malfoy's lip curled. The pointy faced boy made a remark about Harry coming in second to a Weasley, which caused Hermione to demand that he leave. Malfoy seemed pleased enough, that this comment riled up the inhabitants of the compartment, and made to leave.

However, just before shutting the compartment door, Malfoy made one more comment about how he would be dogging Harry all year. This put the spectacled boy immediately on edge, as Harry thought of Sirius accompanying them to Platform 9 and 3/4 earlier that day.

Ron broke the tension that filled the compartment after Malfoy's exit by asking for some food, but Harry couldn't shake the implication of Malfoy's comment. Burdened that he could not share his concern with Ron and Hermione in front of Neville and Luna.

The weather continued to be undecided as the rain splattered against the windows of the Hogwarts Express, and Harry found himself staring thoughtlessly out the window, his shoulder still leaning against Ginny, who was contentedly flipping through the copy of The Quibbler. He hoped to catch the comforting lights of the

Hogwart's castle, but it was a moonless night and the rain-streaked window was grimy.

"We'd better change," said Hermione at last, and they all opened their trunks with difficulty and pulled on their dress robes. She and Ron pinned their prefect badges carefully to their chests. Harry saw Ron checking how it looked in the black window. Harry pretended not to notice and took his seat once more next to Ginny.

At last the train began to slow down and they heard the usual racket up and down it as everybody scrambled to get their luggage and pets assembled, ready for departure. Ron and Hermione were supposed to supervise all this; they disappeared from the carriage again leaving Harry and the others to look after Crookshanks and Pigwidgeon.

Luna offered to take the owl. An offer a surprised Harry accepted, having a hard time balancing both Pigwidgeon's cage and Hedwig's in his hand.

They shuffled out of the compartment feeling the first sting of the night air on their faces as they joined the crowd in the corridor. Harry was ready for some comforting familiarity, hoping to hear the greeting of Hagrid's predictable greeting of, "Firs' years over here..." But it never came.

Instead the distinctly female voice of Professor Grubby-Plank, called the first years to order. Harry found this altogether unsettling.

"Where's Hagrid?" he asked out loud.

"I don't know," said Ginny behind him, "but we'd better get out of the way, we're blocking the door."

"Oh, yeah..."

Harry stuck close to Ginny as they were jostled around in the crowd of students on the platform. Through the dark night Harry squinted his eyes, trying to catch a glimpse of Hagrid's large form; he had to be there. Harry had been relying on it - seeing Hagrid again had been one of the things to which he had looked forward to most.

Convincing himself that Hagrid's absence must be due to some mundane reason, like a cold, Harry's eyes searched for Ginny, making sure that she was in sight of him. He found her red hair a few feet ahead of him, and Harry caught her arm, pulling her aside for a moment.

"Yeah, Harry?" Ginny asked him, a knowing look crossing her features.

Harry sighed and ran a hand over the back of his neck. It's not as if he enjoyed their predicament, but he had a responsibility. "About earlier, with Cho-"

"Stop," Ginny interrupted him, "we had this conversation last year at the Yule Ball. Remember, you were in dress robes, I was wearing that dress you bought for me. You stepped on my feet," she conjectured, and

Harry found himself chuckling as a blush crept up his cheeks. Ginny smiled tiredly and continued, "we decided we're going to deal with it when it gets here. But it's not. So, go after Cho."

Harry's head piqued up as she told him this. It was hard not to feel conflicted in the situation. "Right," Harry agreed awkwardly. Maybe he didn't need to be concerned, like he was in the train.

They stood there for a moment quietly, Ginny tapping her foot against the wood planks of the platform uneasily. Harry found himself rambling, trying to say what he needed to, "It's just... Take care of yourself this year-"

"Yeah, I know, Harry," Ginny agreed placatingly, "don't go reading any rogue diaries..."

Harry found himself laughing at her blunt words, "Yeah, something like that."

Ginny gave him a cheeky grin, before adding, "Well, you be more judicious about the portkeys you grab onto."

"Yeah, will do," Harry agreed with a sober shake of his head. A beat of silence passed between them. "You know, if you need anything, you can come to me," he told the girl in front of him, hoping that Ginny was taking his words seriously. This type of conversation had become an annual occurrence for the pair over the past few years.

Ginny nodded once more, and Harry could tell she was growing tired of this little talk. "I know, Harry," she affirmed, "We've had this conversation before. I'll be fine."

With a small nod, Ginny picked up her things once more and headed back into the throng of students.

Harry watched her go for a moment, before picking up his belongings and following after her, towards the horseless carriages that bring the students to the castle.

"Should we find an empty one?" Harry asked the red-haired girl, as he caught up with her. She was walking rather quickly, saying quick hello's to different students that greeted her back from summer holidays. Her eyes scanning the crowd for someone.

Ginny didn't stop her search as she answered with a quick, "Can't, Harry."

"Oh, are you meeting someone?" Harry asked, continuing to follow her. The realization that Ginny had plenty of her own friends outside of Ron, Hermione, Neville and himself hit him a bit oddly. He and Ginny really didn't spend much time together at school.

"Yes, Harry," she answered flatly. Had he said something to upset her?

"Who?" Harry couldn't help but ask.

Ginny suddenly stopped and turned back to face the dark-haired boy. "My boyfriend," she told Harry, in a tone that told him that she knew he'd forgotten that she was in a relationship. Harry suddenly felt very foolish about assuming Ginny was upset over Cho earlier in the train.

Michael Corner. Harry remembered. Ginny had met the fifth year Ravenclaw last year at the Yule Ball. Harry didn't know much about him, but Michael had asked Ginny out right before the beginning of summer holidays last year. They'd been writing letters back and forth to each other all summer, according to Ron. Although Harry couldn't recall Ginny ever talking about Micheal, while he'd been around.

Ginny gave an impatient shake of her head and continued walking. Harry quickly followed. "How are things getting on between you two?" Harry found himself asking, as Ginny's ever searching eyes seemed to settle upon who she was looking for.

"Michael!" Ginny smiled, ignoring Harry's question and quickly walked over to the brown-haired Ravenclaw boy. Harry took a good look at his fellow student. He was about as tall as Harry, and Harry remembered overhearing some girls discussing that Michael was good-looking and fit.

"Hey, Weasley," Michael greeted Ginny affectionately, "we missed you on the train. Everyone was asking where you were. I looked for you for a bit."

Harry suddenly felt a strong sense of possession over Ginny Weasley. But the redhead just shook her head. "I was sitting with some of my other friends," she told the brown haired boy simply. Harry felt a bit insecure as he was greeted with the notion of Ginny's popularity.

"You mean Loony Lovegood?" Michael teased with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, as a matter of fact." Ginny defended, crossing her arms over her chest.

"She's crazy as a bat, that one," Michael laughed.

Ginny chucked her chin higher. "She's completely herself, no apologies. I like that." Harry found himself smiling with pride.

"You're right," Michael finally gave in, a big smile on his face. "Hey, Harry," he finally acknowledged the other boy standing with them. Harry just nodded in response. Michael continued on, "Isn't Ginny just first class?" he asked the spectacled boy. Harry once again nodded a response and wished one of her brothers were here to let Michael know exactly who would be hurting him, if he hurt Ginny.

"We'll see you later, Harry," Ginny told him, in obvious dismissal. Harry found himself nodding once more as he took his cue to leave them alone. Feeling a little out of sorts, Harry thought that Ginny was entirely too young to date. He would have to discuss this with Ron later. Maybe Fred and George would agree with him too. Now, Michael being attacked by one of the twins' fanged frisbee...that was a very appealing idea.

Pushing through the crowd once more, Harry finally caught glimpse of Ron. He came up beside his friend starting to say hello before asking about the ominous looking horses that seemed pull the carriages this year. To Harry's unease it seemed that only Loony Luna Lovegood was able to see them as well.

Settling into the carriage feeling just as uneasy as he had while boarding the Hogwart's Express, Harry reached into his pocket. The tension in his shoulders seemed to dissipate as he pulled out the letter that Sirius had slipped into his pocket before they had all left No. 12 Grimmauld Place.

Cramming himself into the corner of the seat, he unfolded the parchment.

_Dear Harry,_

_I wanted to send you off with a few words as you start your 5th year. I know this summer has been awful for you. I wish I could have been with you every step of the way, but as circumstances seem against both you and me, it does not look like we will get our wishes. Life does not always allow for fairness._

_How about we make a pact, you and me? I'll stay out of trouble, if you do the same. Fair enough? We both keep our noses clean. Ah, who am I kidding? If things get tough Harry, be tougher. I know you have it in you. If you need anything, ANYTHING, you let me know. Through Dumbledore or through the Weasley's. There will times this year, when you will feel very alone. Hold tight to Ron and Hermione during those times, and know we are out here pulling for you._

_Your Godfather,_

_Snuffles_

_P.S. Good luck with that Cho Chang. She sounds like a real man-killer._

_P.P.S. Make sure you look after Ginny this year especially. She's only getting prettier, and what a fire-cracker! She won't go unnoticed for long. I know this whole thing is difficult, but it could be worse, my boy._

* * *

Harry spent his first week at school getting acquainted with the changes the Ministry of Magic had enforced upon Hogwarts. Not only had the Sorting Hat given an ominous message about school unity, that was only further emphasized by Nearly Headless Nick explaining that the hat only gives this kind of advice during times of great danger, but also the presence of a the new toad-like Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Dolores Umbridge, who had seem to put both student and faculty on edge. With the addition of Hagrid's unexplained absence and his fellow student's propensity to point and whisper about him, Harry found that Hogwarts was not quite filling him with the sense of comforting familiarity that he had hoped it would.

Relief did not come with the beginning of classes, and Harry found that his once favorite subject, Defense Against the Dark Arts was anything but that. Professor Umbridge had made it clear on their first day that there would be no learning of the spells that could potentially save their lives. Harry could not keep himself from arguing against her intentional blind eye of the matter and landed himself a trip to Professor McGonagall's office, and a weeks worth of detention to serve with the pink-clad tyrant. Fortunately Professor McGonagall seemed to like Umbridge even less than Harry did and he was not further penalized from actively speaking against his new professor's false words.

The only exciting notion of the beginning of the term was Ron's interest in trying out for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Since Oliver Wood's recent graduation from Hogwarts left the team without a Keeper, trials were being held at the end of the week for a replacement. Harry did his best to practice with Ron, who could play brilliantly until his confidence was shot. It became more and more difficult to help Ron as Harry began serving his detentions. Professor Umbridge with her sickeningly sweet voice found pleasure in asking Harry to write lines during for his punishments, except the quill used had the horrific ability to carve the words required by the teacher, "I MUST NOT TELL LIES," into the back of Harry's hand.

As he wrote the task became increasingly more painful. First the cuts on his hand healed almost immediately, now at the end of his week, the scars of repeated cuts had stopped fading, leaving Harry with an unwanted tattoo. Probably the most unsettling incident of his detentions had been when Umbridge had touched him to make sure the scars were truly setting in, and an intense blinding pain shot through him. A pain Harry likened to when Voldemort had touched him back in the graveyard in his fourth year. Ron and Hermione repeatedly encouraged Harry to go to Dumbledore about the cruelty of Harry's detentions, but he could not bring himself to seek out his Headmaster. Dumbledore had not gone out of his way to speak to him during the worst summer of his life.

What Harry needed was Sirius. He knew his Godfather would have answers for him. Despite Hermione's insistence for Harry to refrain from writing Sirius, lest their letters be tracked and followed, Harry found himself set on the notion.

* * *

Harry was first to wake up in his dormitory next morning. He laid for a moment watching dust swirl in the ray of sunlight coming through the gap in his four-poster's hangings, and savoured the thought that it was Saturday, and Ron had indeed made Keeper for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. The first week of term seemed to have dragged on for ever, like one gigantic History of Magic lesson.

It was just after daybreak when Harry found himself up and dressed, with a fresh piece of parchment, scratching away at a letter to Sirius before any of his classmates chose to rise. Harry felt his brain buzzing with all the new goings on at Hogwarts and how relatively wretched his first week had been, but found he was at a loss of what to say. How could he explain every detailed thought and theory that had captivated his mind for the past few weeks?

He sat motionless for a while, gazing into the fireplace, then, finally coming to a decision, he dipped his quill into the ink bottle once more and set it resolutely on the parchment.

_Dear Snuffles,_

_Hope you're OK, the first week back here's been terrible. I'm really glad it's the weekend. We've got a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Umbridge. She's nearly as nice as your mum. I'm writing because that thing I wrote to you about last summer happened again last night when I was doing detention with Umbridge._

_We're all missing our biggest friend, we hope he'll be back soon._

_Please write back quickly._

_Best,_

_Harry_

_P.S. Talked to Cho once since we've been back. I was covered in putrid green slime at the time..._

_P.P.S. Ginny's got a boyfriend. A Ravenclaw in my year. Can't believe I'd forgotten about that._

Harry reread the letter several times, trying to see it from the point of view of an outsider. He could not see how they would know what he was talking about - or who he was talking to - just from reading this letter.

He hoped Sirius would pick up the hint about Hagrid and tell them when he might be back. Harry did not want to ask directly in case it drew too much attention to what Hagrid might be up to while he was not at Hogwarts.

Despite the brevity of the letter, it had taken Harry quite some time to pen it. The sounds of arising students could be heard from the dormitories above. Sealing the parchment carefully, he climbed through the portrait hole and headed off for the Owlery.

After dodging Peeves' latest prank involving a statue falling on one's head, and enduring a frustrating brush with the caretaker's ever suspicious cat, Mrs. Norris, Harry finally made it to the Owlery, his spirits lifted with the notion that the day turned out blue skied and beautiful and Quidditch practice began later that afternoon.

With a smile on his face, Harry entered the large loft. Its glassless windows dazzling his eyes; thick silvery beams of sunlight crisscrossed the circular room where hundreds of owls nested on rafters. Harry felt the leftover tension leave his body, as he craned his neck for Hedwig's snowy white feathers. Harry beckoned for his feathered friend to come, and the owl outstretched her wings, perching herself on Harry's shoulder. After a quick reminder that Snuffles was actually Sirius, the great snowy owl took off to deliver the letter. He watched her until she became a tiny black speck and vanished. Harry's gaze drifted towards Hagrid's hut, which stood lonely and lifeless with the curtains drawn and no smoke billowing from the crooked chimney.

"Hold still you crazy little nuisance! " came the frustrated voice of Ginny Weasley.

Harry turned back to the Owlery surprised. He hadn't noticed anyone else enter the large loft. He caught sight of Ginny's red hair dancing about, as she attempted to tie a letter from the ever-moving leg of the small owl, Pigwidgeon. A confused look on Pig's little face, as if he didn't quite understand why Ginny wouldn't just tie the string.

With a chuckle, Harry went over to the struggling girl. "Need help?" he asked trying to suppress a grin.

"Yeah," agreed Ginny, blowing a piece of her red hair out of her eyes, "he may be cute, but he is also very thick."

Harry plucked the struggling bird out of the air, holding him still in his hands while Ginny concentrated on tying a knot. Her small fingers worked feverishly, but she had to keep stopping to shake out her right hand, as if it was very painful.

"Argh!" Ginny cried, seeming to give up on the notion of getting a letter sent and cradled her hand against her chest. Taking over the task, Harry braced the erratic tiny owl against his elbow and finished tying the knot.

"Who's this to?" Harry asked quickly, heading to the window.

Ginny answered with a frustrated, "Mum," and Harry all but tossed the little bugger out the castle. After a quick plummet the small owl, found its wings and headed off into the bright day.

Harry returned to Ginny's side instantly. "What's wrong?" he asked her, concerned, reaching out and taking her injured hand in his. The sight of Ginny shaking out her stinging hand reminded Harry of his own flexing and wringing of his scarred hand after his grueling detentions. He would go to Dumbledore straight away if Umbridge had marred Ginny's innocent hands. "What did she do to you?"

"What are you talking about?" asked a confused Ginny as she tried to pull the appendage away. Harry held tight and pulled her closer, trying to get a better look for the wicked words that were surely etched below her knuckles.

"What did you do to earn a detention from Umbridge?" Harry demanded shortly his eyes skimming her skin not believing it was clear.

"Harry," Ginny settled firmly and her tone stopped Harry's search and caused his green eyes to meet her brown, "I haven't gotten a detention with Umbridge. What is going on?"

After a calming breath, Harry held up the back of his right hand for Ginny to read. "Weeks worth of detention," he explained to a wide-eyed Ginny, "And it smarts like hell."

Harry watched as her confusion turned to rage, "That crazy wench! I knew I shouldn't trust her. Harry this is madness!" she fumed, doing her best to pull her hand away again, and go to whom he assumed would be Dumbledore.

"Forget it, Ginny. It's over. Just keep your head down in her class," Harry warned her.

"But, Harry-"

"I mean it," Harry cut her off. Ginny's defiant look turned tight, but instead of arguing she nodded in understanding.

"Now," he added more gently, bringing her injured hand up for his inspection once more, "what's wrong here?"

Ginny shrugged. "I don't know. I don't remember injuring it or anything. It just started hurting last night before I went to bed, and this morning it's only gotten worse. It feels as if someone is squeezing it," she explained, flexing her fingers in his grip.

Harry gave it another once over. "Does this make it feel better?" he asked, flipping her hand over and using his thumb to massage her palm. Her skin was soft against his thumbs, and he was altogether amazed about how small her hands against his. Especially after his growth spurt over the summer, Ginny seemed even smaller next to him.

He looked down at her, as he massaged her hand, noticing that her eyes had closed during his ministrations.

"That feels really nice," Ginny murmured softly. Harry found himself smiling, knowing that he'd at least done one thing right since he'd been at school. He'd looked after Ginny.

"Why don't you go see Madame Pomfrey," Harry suggested, giving her hand one last squeeze before letting it go.

Ginny's eyes opened slowly and Harry suddenly realized that Sirius had been right. She was only getting prettier.

"Yeah," she responded, sounding a little dazed. Her eyes looking at her hand curiously. She flexed her fingers and twirled her wrist. Harry watched her as she took a large step back from him, her gaze keenly avoiding his. "I'm going to go now. Thanks again for the help with the letter," Ginny told him, turning to leave.

"Bye, Ginny," Harry bid her, a bit confused by her sudden exit.

"Tell Ron good luck for me on his first day at practice!" She called from over her shoulder before disappearing out the door. Harry stood there for a minute feeling rather strange.

Moving back to the window once more he watched as the treetops of the Forbidden Forest swayed in a light breeze. Harry was surprised to see the sight of a great reptilian winged horse, just like the one's pulling the Hogwarts carriages, with leathery black wings spread wide like a pterodactyl's, rise up out of the trees like a grotesque, giant bird. Just as quick as it appeared the creature dove back into the thick of the trees. Harry stood there wondering if he was beginning to see things.

The Owlery door opened behind him. He leapt in shock, and turning quickly, saw Cho Chang holding a letter and a parcel in her hands. Harry's heart was beating so rapidly from the sight of those winged creatures that he almost didn't answer her when she greeted him.

Luckily, he found the will to compose himself and they talked of Quidditch. Harry informed her of Ron's new position as Keeper, and why he wasn't there at the trials.

"That Umbridge woman is foul," Cho remarked, with a sharp look on her face. To Harry's immense pleasure Cho continue to praise him for standing up to Umbridge. Saying that everyone knows how Cedric had died, and it was loathsome for her to deny Voldemort's return.

Much to Harry's annoyance, Filch had come rushing in at that moment, accusing Harry of sending a letter that would result in a large dungbomb order shipped into the school. Harry was glad he had already mailed his letter to Sirius, and even more pleased when Cho stood up for Harry's innocence.

The caretaker seemed almost scared of the pretty sixth year as they stared each other down. Filch left muttering and cursing. He thanked Cho and they left the Owlery together chatting along happily.

Once they reached the entrance of a corridor that led towards the west wing of the castle, Cho said, "I'm going this way. Well, I'll...I'll see you around, Harry."

He bid her goodbye, and she smiled as they departed. He had managed to have an entire conversation with her and not embarrassed himself once. She had called him brave. Harry congratulated himself and headed toward the Great Hall to meet Ron and Hermione for breakfast.

He hoped Ginny went to the Hospital Wing to have her hand examined.

* * *

Harry, Ron and Hermione spent their breakfast mulling over the latest edition of the Daily Prophet. An unnerving story of the Ministry suspecting Sirius was hiding out in London put the three on edge. Harry was sure that Lucius Malfoy had tipped off the Ministry, due to Draco's comment on the Hogwart's Express.

Another interesting article about a break in at the Ministry caught their attention next. Sturgis Podmore had been found trying to get through a door in the middle of the night. They all speculated why one of the Order of the Phoenix would be breaking into the Ministry. None could come up with a good reason.

Harry and Ron decided to spend their morning playing Quidditch outside against Hermione's wishes, who thought their time would be more wisely spent working on a rather long essay that Professor McGonagall had assigned them earlier in the week. The boys found themselves walking the grounds down to the pitch discussing how Hermione took school a bit too seriously, although Ron voiced his curiosity if Hermione were truly serious about not allowing them to copy her homework.

They practiced together all the way up until Quidditch practice began. To Harry's immense relief Ron was playing brilliantly, which was not always the case when the red-haired prefect was nervous. Practice started out well enough, but not too long into drills some Slytherins came out to taunt the team. Malfoy, his cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, and Pansy Parkinson made it their personal goal to insult everyone on the team. Despite Harry's best efforts to ignore them, it seemed Ron was too insecure to handle the assault to his frail ego. Ron was so distracted that he sent Chaser Katie Bell to the Hospital Wing. Practice was called after that, and the rest of the night was shot with Ron's low mood. Harry couldn't find the motivation to work on his homework.

The three spent all of Sunday cooped up in the Gryffindor Common Room, working on unfinished homework. After hours of scratching away at unfinished essays, Harry promised himself that he would do better to not leave all of his homework for the weekend again. The bright sunshiny weather outside was taunting he and Ron as their hands cramped from fatigue.

Late into the evening he finished his second to last essay. Ron inquired to Harry about whether he thought Hermione would let them copy her essay, to which Harry huffed a negative. Sharpening his quill, the dark-haired boy looked over to see Hermione chatting with Ginny by the fire. Harry watched them for a moment, pleased to see Ginny playing with Hermione's cat Crookshanks with ease. It seemed her hand was better.

Slowly, the crowd in the common room began to thin again. At half past eleven, Hermione wandered over to them, yawning. She asked the boys if they were finished with their essays, quickly correcting Ron's mistakes in his. Ron, already on edge from his bad practice immediately began to argue. But Hermione was not listening and pointed out a handsome screech-owl perched in one of the windows.

It was Percy's owl, Hermes. Ron crossed the room, collecting the letter from the owl, wondering aloud why Percy would be writing him. This seemed to catch Ginny's attention, who had just awoken from falling asleep on the couch curled up with Crookshanks.

"Open it," Ginny yawned, as she joined the three at the study table.

Ron did so eagerly, and began to read. The further down the parchment his eyes travelled, the more pronounced became his scowl. When he had finished reading, he looked disgusted. He thrust the letter at Harry, Hermione and Ginny who leaned together to read it.

Harry felt his blood begin to heat as Percy's well wishes and congratulations of Ron's prefectship turned into a strong advisement to cut ties with Harry altogether. Percy's connections at the Ministry of Magic, allowing for him to know where the attention seeking boy was blowing from, and not only Harry, but Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were also belittled in the letter. Percy taking time to explain that anyone who is loyal to Dumbledore is ignorant and waiting for the oust. What really incensed Harry was Percy's kind accolades for Dolores Umbridge and his hopes that she would bring reform to the out-of-control school.

"Well," Harry said, trying to sound as though he found the whole thing a joke, "if you want to -er - what is it?" he checked Percy's letter- "Oh yea- 'sever ties' with me," I swear I won't get violent."

"Of all the nerve!" spat Ginny hotly.

"Give it back," said Ron, holding out his hand. "He is-" Ron said jerkily, tearing Percy's letter in half, "the world's-" he tore it into quarters, "biggest-" he tore it into eighths, "git." He threw the pieces into the fire. Ginny sent a spell from her wand to cause dying embers to burst into flames.

Ron threw himself down in his chair once more, encouraging Harry that they could finish their essays in one more hour if they set themselves to it. Harry noticed Hermione looking at Ron rather strangely, and the next minute Hermione was gathering up their essays to proofread and correct them. Ron looked like she had taken the world off his shoulders.

It was now past midnight and the common room was deserted but for the four and Crookshanks. The only sounds were the quiet scratching of Hermione's quill, the light tinkle of the bell round Crookshank's neck as Ginny played with the cat, and the small crackle of the fire that alighted the circular room. Harry was exhausted. He also felt an odd, sick, empty feeling in his stomach that had nothing to do with his tiredness and everything to do with the letter now curling blackly in the fireplace.

Harry had a surge of sympathy for his godfather, he thought Sirius was probably the only person he knew who could really understand how he felt at the moment, because Sirius was in the same situation.

Harry blinked. He could hear Hermione explaining to Ron the corrections he need to make to his essay, and Ron thanking her. But he was transfixed on the fire-place. Harry had slid off his chair on to his knees and was now crouching on the singed and threadbare hearthrug, gazing into the flames.

"Er - Harry? said Ginny uncertainly. "Why are you down there?"

Harry explained to them all that he could swear he had just seen Sirius' head in the fire. This was not an odd notion, because Harry had talked to his godfather in the fire the previous year, during the Triwizard Tournament, but Hermione was the first to deny its possibility. It was simply too risky.

But the four students gasped collectively when the distinct head of long hair that belonged to Sirius Black appeared in the flames.

Harry couldn't describe his relief in seeing his godfather, whom he'd desperately missed. Sirius had apparently been popping into the fire every hour, waiting to see when Harry and his friends were finally alone.

"What if someone had seen you?" asked Hermione anxiously.

"Well, I think a girl -first year, by the looks of her - might've but don't worry, I was gone the moment she looked back. By the way Ginny, you've got quick hands with that cat. Ever think of going out for Quidditch? You'd make a Chaser," Sirius finished, completely ignoring Hermione's gasp in horror that he might have been seen.

Ginny laughed, and responded with a, "Maybe."

"Well, if your throwing arm is half as strong as your Bat Bogey Hex I saw you cast on Fred over the summer, your opponents will be quivering in fear," Sirius added, and Harry smiled. Happy to see his godfather speak of things less sinister than their usual topics.

Hermione cleared her throat, and Sirius got down to business about Harry's letter. Sirius eased Harry's fears that the pain caused by Umbridge touching his scar, meant that she was connected to Voldemort. The students explained how they weren't using a lick of magic in Defense Against the Dark Arts classes and Sirius wasn't surprised. Apparently it had been overheard that Fudge did not want any of the students trained in combat, lest Dumbledore raise up an army against him. They all scoffed at the notion. Harry took the opportunity to ask about Hagrid, and Sirius could only give them vague news, with little idea of when he'd return to the school.

Before the conversation ended Sirius offered to come meet Harry as Snuffles on the first Hogsmeade weekend, but everyone was in agreement that it was altogether too risky, especially after the article in yesterday's Daily Prophet. Sirius seemed put out about Harry's unwillingness to take a risk. The risk alone would have made it fun for James.

Harry tried to explain to Sirius that he meant too much to Harry to maybe lose him again, but unfortunately their time was up. Sirius quickly promised to write to Harry and tell him another time they could meet at the fireplace, and then he was gone.

The four remained quiet as they took in what they had learned. Hermione moved first, gathering up her books and organizing the boy's homework. Ron stood as well, and Harry knew they were talking about he and Sirius in low whispers. Harry pushed himself back from his knees, so he was sitting against one of the oversized couches.

Ron and Hermione said goodnight, but Harry said he'd be up in a minute.

"Are you coming, Ginny?" Hermione asked.

Ginny, who had been still staring into the fire perked up, "No, I mean yes. I need to gather my things. Go ahead."

Ron and Hermione climbed their respective staircases and Harry felt more alone than he had in a while. He was tired of their shared looks of concern. He'd hoped they'd stop it once the trial was over and school had begun, but it seemed as if it would last a little longer.

"Harry?" asked Ginny, as she came over to sit facing Harry on the carpet.

Harry did his best to shake off his mood and answered, "Yeah, Ginny?"

"Don't even think about Percy's letter for a minute," Ginny told him earnestly, "He's been so insufferable ever since he began his job at the Ministry. You know the rest of us believe you, right?"

Harry gave a small nod in understanding.

"Good," she affirmed, with a small smile.

"How's that hand of yours?" Harry asked, quickly changing the subject. He needed to think of something else.

"Perfect, actually," Ginny told him in a way that didn't sound perfect at all.

"That's great?" commented Harry, confused by her tone.

He watched as Ginny tucked some red strands of her hair behind her ear. "Well," Ginny started nervously, "That's what I wanted to talk to you about actually."

"Yeah," Harry prompted. He did not like seeing Ginny this way.

"So, it didn't really click until earlier today," she began, "my hand really hurt since Friday night, and the odd thing was, it felt immediately better after you had held it in the Owlery. It felt as if you were removing the pain from my hand with yours."

"That's odd," commented Harry, still not understanding what Ginny was trying to tell him.

"Yeah, I thought so too, but then I realized what had caused it to hurt in the first place," Ginny took a frustrated breath, continuing, "Michael and I held hands for the first time Friday night."

Harry's looked at her for a moment, as his mind took him back to a conversation that took place nearly four years ago in the Hospital Wing. "Oh," was all Harry could say.

Ginny huffed, "Yeah, it seems that it's true."

Harry's mind was in overdrive as he tried to remember all the parameters Dumbledore had explained to them. "But you've held hands with a boy before this," Harry reasoned, feeling a wave of guilt wash over him.

"You're right, I have. I thought about that too, but it's never been an... intimate thing," Ginny explained, having a hard time meeting Harry's eyes on the last words.

Harry let out a long sigh, as he scrubbed his hand over his mouth. He'd taken for granted when their predicament would start to get complicated. "So, you're saying that if you don't share your first...whatever with me, it's going to cause you actual physical pain?"

"It would seem so," Ginny agreed soberly.

"Even though I don't have to share any of my firsts with you?" asked Harry incredulously.

"Nope."

"That's bullocks," argued Harry against the total imbalance of their situation.

"Total bullocks," she agreed tightly.

"I'm so sorry, Gin-" Harry found himself apologizing.

"Stop, Harry," Ginny cut him off. They had apologized to each other for four years now. Harry couldn't believe the reality that was set before him.

"What do we do?" she asked dejectedly.

Harry looked at Ginny, wishing he could free her somehow. "Figure it out?" he offered as strongly as he could.

* * *

"What do you mean Albus?" asked the nervous voice of Mr. Weasley.

Harry sat tensely on the edge of the hospital bed next to the one in which Ginny was lying, his eyes downcast in shame. The hospital wing was cleared of all of it's visitors per Dumbledore's request with only Ginny, her parents, and himself left to converse with the headmaster.

"What I am saying Arthur, is that by saving Ginny from such dark of magic, Harry triggered an ancient curse that has bonded their souls for the rest of eternity," The headmaster explained regretfully.

Molly Weasley hugged her young daughter closer to her. Harry felt like the lowest person in the world. How could he have hurt the first family that had ever been kind to him?

"How can this be?" asked Mrs. Weasley tensely.

Harry looked up into the eyes of Albus Dumbledore, the look on the twelve-year old's face asking the same question. The clear blue eyes of the headmaster returned a look of only the great remorse. A silence passed before the professor began, "As Voldemort's memory began draining Ginny's life for it's own, her soul began to slip further and further into Voldemort's power. When Harry defeated the Basilisk, an ancient magical creature that's existence holds many more questions we may never be able to answer, and then used it's venom to destroy the spirit taking Ginny's soul and life, a most magical bond was formed, unbeknownst to the children. This bond has occurred only twice in the entirety of the history of magic."

The group sat their reeling as Dumbledore continued to explain, "This bond is an ancient magic dating back to the earliest scholars of Magical Theory. The mythology goes that a there was a king who had two sons. A noble son and his cunning brother. Each of the prince's were given a creature to rule over, the noble son the winged gryffindor and the cunning, the Basilisk. The noble son was favored by the king and in line to take the throne. The cunning brother was a jealous man, plotting to take from his brother what he held most dear. When the noble son turned seventeen he fell in love with a beautiful maiden. They were to be wed, when the cunning son, who had always had a propensity for dark magic, wooed the young maiden away."

"But the cunning brother had no intentions of loving or marrying the young maiden. When the noble prince came to her rescue, the brother began to drain the maiden's soul from her body, for him to keep and wear around his neck to taunt his brother. In desperation, the noble prince grabbed the fang of the Basilisk; stabbing his brother and freeing her soul with a deep magic that bound her to him for all eternity."

"She was his to keep. The magic required her to marry him by his next birthday, his eighteenth year, and a son must be bore before the young prince's father died, his twenty-fifth year. The noble prince realizing how easily his fair maiden had been wooed away from him, became jealous and possessive over the young maiden, and his jealousies poured themselves into the magic as the bond wrapped itself around the couple. She could not be intimate with another man without suffering excruciating pain, that could only be lifted by the prince's forgiveness-"

"So you're saying that our Ginny must marry Harry by his next birthday?" Molly interrupted. Harry felt his gaze snap up at the question. He could certainly not be married at age thirteen!

"No, the bond stays in it's original form, Harry's eighteenth birthday," Dumbledore explained calmly, and Harry felt his rapid beating pulse settle back down.

"But, Ginny will still be sixteen at that time," Arthur argued, scrubbing a hand over his tired face.

"I know, it is harshly unfair," agreed the Headmaster sadly.

"There must be a way to have this undone," Mrs. Weasley offered, "They're only children." Harry glanced over to Ginny, who was wrapped in her mother's arms. She looked so young.

"Molly, I have scoured all the literature and accounts of these bonds, and the only way out is death. A fate that both Harry and Ginny fought so hard against down in the Chamber of Secrets." Dumbledore explained gently, remorse coloring his tone. "The only other account of an soulbond occurred over three hundred years ago," Dumbledore added, "A young boy and girl a few years older than Harry and Ginny in Russia were walking home through the forest when they stumbled upon a dark wizard performing a soul draining spell on a muggle woman.. The wizard first took the girl and the boy using a fang he found in the Wizard's fire, stabbed the dark wizard, saving the girl. Their soul's were bonded that night. They boy and girl went along with their lives, unaware of the bond they shared. Until the a suitor came to ask for the girls hand in marriage. When the suitor kissed the girls cheek, she experienced excruciating pain. The boy saw her in pain and brushed her cheek, immediately soothing the pain. They found solace in each other's company, drawn to the other without realizing it. But she was promised to another man. On her wedding day, after saying her vows she immediately dropped to the ground, _dead._"

* * *

**Author's Note: **So here begins my next great undertaking. I plan on following the couple all the way through the end of the series. We will see how Harry and Ginny deal with this predicament as they carry on with their lives. My plan is to keep it as close to cannon as possible with the addition of this element. Ginny will be much more present than she is in the novels.

There is a lot of summarization from the OOTP, and I did that purposely to weave my plot into the original storyline. All credit is to JK herself. There will be less of it as the story marches forward, relying on the reader to fill in the gaps.

Like CBAHM, I have read a few Soulbond stories. It is a concept that has always intrigued me, but I found myself wishing for adjustments in the stories I had read. I decided to make my own adjustments here. Do tell me what you think.


	2. Chapter 2

An announcement in the Daily Prophet days later revealed that Dolores Umbridge would be the acting High Inquisitor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. This did not sit with Harry well. The faculty was even less pleased. Harry, Ron and Hermione, not only had to endure Umbridge's stunted opinion of their Defense Against the Dark Arts curriculum, but the toad-like woman had begun to attend all of the other classes as well, making notes and giving suggestions as to how they should be taught. Harry thought Professor McGonagall might earn a detention herself when she voiced her disdain for Umbridge's presence during Transfiguration. Harry even found himself defending the very odd Professor Trelawney when Umbridge had demanded that she make predictions during Divination. This of course earned him another dreadful detention. The frustrated boy couldn't bring himself to care.

Even Hermione was fed up with the current state of their education to suggest an idea, that she would be against otherwise.

"Well, said Hermione tentatively. "You know, I was thinking today..." She shot a slightly nervous look at Harry and then plunged on, "I was thinking that - maybe the time's come when we should just do it ourselves."

"Do what ourselves?" said Harry suspiciously.

"Well - learn Defense Against the Dark Arts ourselves," said Hermione.

This took Harry and Ron completely off guard. Hermione had never been one to break the rules, but the more she talked about it, the more appealing the idea seemed. They certainly weren't learning anything that could save them from what was outside the wall of Hogwarts, and the threat was only growing. The question was who would teach them. Harry didn't think Lupin would have the time. But Hermione wasn't thinking of a professor, she thought it should be him.

"But I'm not a teacher, I can't -," Harry argued feebly. How could he possibly be qualified to teach people how to survive?

"Harry, you're the best in the year at Defense Against the Dark Arts," said Hermione.

Harry still couldn't understand how both Ron and Hermione thought he was fit to undertake this task. And he couldn't understand why Hermione and Ron were smirking, and looking at him as if he were blind. When he asked why they thought this, Ron rolled his eyes, before rattling off Harry's accomplishments.

"Uh- first year - you saved the Stone from You-Know-Who," Ron started.

"But that was luck," said Harry, "that wasn't skill-"

On and on he went, as Harry did his best to make his friends see that he had always had help, or gotten lucky during his brushes with Voldemort. Harry found himself growing more and more angry as he explained he'd never asked for this; he'd never wanted to fight Voldemort and watch Cedric Diggory die. He'd had his brains and his guts, and that's the only thing that had kept him alive. Ron interrupted Harry's tirade, and Hermione did her best to calm Harry down. He knew they hadn't been meaning to upset him. With a calming breath, Harry promised Hermione that he'd think about the notion. Sleeping that night brought him no rest, as he dreamed of long corridors and locked doors, and he woke the next day with his scar prickling.

The subject of the private Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons was not broached again for two whole weeks. Harry's detentions with Umbridge were finally over, and Ron had gotten four more Quidditch practices under his belt, and had been showing some marginal improvement. He hadn't been shouted at during the last two.

While the trio worked on their Potion's essay, Hermione asked Harry if he'd thought about it. Harry was still reluctant as he thumbed through _Asiatic Anti-Venoms,_ but he had given it a great deal of thought, over the past fort-night. Hermione did her best to quell Harry's reservations, reminding him that he'd been able to produce a corporeal patronus at age thirteen, and even threw off the Imperius curse, last year. It was when Hermione brought up Viktor Krum, when Ron began to add his two cents. The subject took a detour as Ron badgered Hermione about her _pen pal,_ and Harry finally agreed, if it would only be she and Ron. However, Hermione made the point that Harry should teach whoever would be interested in learning. Harry took solace in his recent unpopularity, knowing that few would want to spend time with an 'attention seeking liar.'

It was decided that Harry would meet with whatever students would want to take part in the lessons during the next Hogsmeade weekend, and Hermione would spread the word till then. So, on a sunny October afternoon Harry found himself following Hermione and Ron into The Hog's Head, a dodgy pub that was rarely frequented by Hogwarts students. The three sat at a booth for a quiet minute, and Harry felt a bit of relief that it might really just be the three of them. In his periphery, Harry noticed a lone figure whose face was covered by a hooded cloak, seated two booths away. He was about to point him out to Ron and Hermione when the pub door opened and Neville, Dean, Lavender shuffled in, followed by Parvati and Padma Patil with (Harry's stomach did a backflip) Cho and one of her girlfriends, and a very dreamy looking Luna Lovegood.

By the end of the parade the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team was seated there. The Creevey brothers sat with Ernie Macmillan, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Hannah Abbot, Hufflepuff Susan Bones, Three Ravenclaw boys, Michael Corner, Anthony Goldstein, and Terry Boot. Ginny Weasley was there as well, catching his eye, and offering him a proud smile, before returning to her conversation with Michael. Lee Jordan was also there, sharing the last bench with a boy from the Hufflepuff team, Zacharias Smith. Altogether the count was twenty five. Harry felt a mixture of terror and relief.

"A couple of people?" Harry asked Hermione incredulously.

"Well, the idea was quite popular," She settled, before addressing the crowd. Hermione explained the purpose of the group would be to actually learn how to defend one's self, to which Michael Corner added that Hermione also wanted to get an O on her upcoming O.W.L.s. Harry wondered if Michael was sitting at the number two spot in their class, right behind Hermione. The crowd certainly perked up when Hermione responded with a declaration of Voldemort's return was her biggest motivator.

It was then that Zacharias Smith made his presence known; he began to question Harry about the events that occurred at the end of the Triwizard Tournament last year. His anger boiling to the surface, Harry informed the crowd if they had come to hear a story, then they could leave now. To Harry's amazement, no one left their seat. Hermione did her best to smooth over matters, when Susan Bones, whose Aunt was at Harry's trial over the summer, asked Harry if he could in fact produce a corporeal patronus.

"Yes," said Harry.

"Blimey, Harry!" said Lee, looking deeply impressed. "I never knew that!"

Fred and George smiled, saying that they'd known all summer, but had been forbidden to tell by Mrs. Weasley, who thought it would bring too much attention to Harry.

Harry agreed.

"And did you kill a basilisk with that sword in Dumbledore's office?" Demanded Terry Boot. "That's what one of the portraits on the wall told me when I was in there last year..."

Harry's eyes snapped over to Ginny's; they exchanged a tense glance as Harry answered with a tight, "Er - yeah, I did, yeah."

Justin Finch-Fletchley whistled, the Creevey brothers exchanged awestruck looks, and Lavender Brown said "wow" softly. Harry pulled his gaze away from Ginny, feeling slightly hot under the collar at the new attention; he was determinedly looking anywhere but at Cho. Neville added Harry saving the Sorcerer's Stone back in first year, and Cho added her praise to Harry's accomplishments during the Triwizard's Tournament.

Harry did his best to arrange his face to not look too pleased with himself. The fact that Cho had just praised him made it much, much harder for him to tell the group that he had actually received help with many of the tasks he had undertook over the past five years. When the crowd heard this, they immediately rebutted with instances when Harry had no aid.

Zacharias Smith chose that moment to ask if Harry was trying to get out of teaching them Defense Against the Dark Arts. This comment got every Weasley boy to Harry's defense. Ron telling Zacharias to not-so kindly, "shut your mouth!" and Fred and George were the first to offer to help the Hufflepuff to clean out his ears with a particularly unpleasant tool, if he couldn't hear Harry correctly.

Everyone settled down after that, and the task of finding the right time to meet was addressed. No one wanted the meetings to interfere with Quidditch practices. Before a time was picked Hermione and Luna had started fighting over whether Cornelius Fudge had an army of heliopaths.

Harry thought he was going to scream when a bright, "Hem, hem," rang through the crowd. Ginny, in such a good imitation of Professor Umbridge that several people looked around in alarm and then laughed, had effectively stopped all diverting conversations.

"Weren't we trying to decide how often we're going to meet and get Defense lessons?" Ginny asked Hermione pointedly. The brunette girl gave a sheepish look, before agreeing. As they brainstormed places to meet, a paper was passed around for everyone to sign. The crowd seemed nervous to put their name in writing, proving their attendance to a meeting that was strictly forbidden by the school, but after Hermione's insistence, everyone signed.

With plans to pick a time and place, everyone said their goodbyes and headed out. Harry noticed that Cho seemed in no hurry to leave, taking extra care to make sure her bag was fastened. It was her friend, that had not seemed too keen on attending the meeting in the first place, who insisted they go with her arms crossed, and her tongue clicking her impatience. As her friend ushered her through the door, Cho looked back and waved at Harry.

As Hermione, Ron and Harry left the pub, they spoke about the meeting. Ron offered his immediate dislike for the argumentative Zacharias Smith. Hermione agreed, saying he'd overheard her talking with Ernie and Hannah, and he had been really interested in coming.

"But the more students the better," Hermione went on, "- I mean, Michael Corner and his friends wouldn't have come if he hadn't been going out with Ginny -"

Ron, who had been draining the last few drops from his butterbeer bottle, gagged and sprayed butterbeer down his front.

"He's WHAT?" said Ron, outraged, his ears now resembling curls of raw beef. "She's going out with - my sister's going - what d'you mean, Michael Corner?"

Harry found himself shaking his head, as Hermione explained to Ron that he and Ginny had met at the Yule Ball last year. It was Ron who had told him that Ginny had been writing Michael over the summer. Harry had put two and two together, that they were dating, which had been confirmed by Ginny herself on the Hogsmeade Platform. Of course Ron would be outraged when they weren't around Ginny. Harry thought Ron needed to work on his timing, especially since Ginny was no where in sight.

"Which one was Michael Corner?" Ron demanded furiously.

"The dark haired one," said Hermione.

"I didn't like him," said Ron at once, and Harry agreed silently.

"Big surprise," said Hermione under her breath.

"But," said Ron, following Hermione into Scrivenschaft's Quill Shop, "I thought Ginny fancied Harry!"

Hermione looked at him rather pityingly and shook her head. "Ginny _used _to fancy Harry, but she got over him months ago. Not that she doesn't like you, of course," she added kindly to Harry while she examined a long black and gold quill.

Harry, whose head had been full of Cho's parting wave, suddenly had a strange feeling in his gut. Of course he already knew all of what Hermione was telling Ron, but hearing it voiced aloud made him feel rather tense.

"So that's why she talks now?" Ron asked Hermione suddenly. "She never used to talk in front of Harry.

"Exactly," said Hermione. "Yes, I think I'll have this one..." Harry watched as Hermione went up to pay for her new quill, Ron breathing down her neck the whole time.

Hermione was wrong. Only Harry knew that he and Ginny had been talking without difficulty for almost a year now. Ever since their conversation at the Yule Ball last year things had been running very smoothly between the two. Although Harry hated keeping secrets from Ron and Hermione, the bond was not only his secret to tell.

Ron continued to chunter under his breath all the way down the street. Hermione rolled her eyes at Harry and then said in an undertone, while Ron was muttering imprecations about Michael Corner, "And talking about Michael and Ginny...what about Cho and you?

"What do you mean?" said Harry quickly.

It was as though boiling water was rising rapidly inside him; a burning sensation that was causing his face to smart in the cold - had he been that obvious?

"Well," said Hermione, smiling slightly, "she just couldn't keep her eyes off of you, could she?"

Harry had never before appreciated just how beautiful the village of Hogsmeade was.

* * *

Harry felt happier for the rest of the weekend than he had done all term. He and Ron spent much of Sunday catching up with all their homework again, and although this could hardly be called fun, the last burst of autumn sunshine persisted, so rather than sitting hunched over tables in the common room they took their work outside and lounged in the shade of a large beech tree on the edge of the lake.

Knowing they were doing something to resist Umbridge and the Ministry, and that he was a key part of the rebellion, gave Harry a feeling of immense satisfaction. He kept reliving Saturdays meeting in his mind: all those people, coming to him to learn Defence Against the Dark Arts . . . and the looks on their faces as they had heard some of the things he had done . . . and Cho praising his performance in the Triwizard Tournament. Harry was still cheerful on Monday morning, despite the imminent prospect of all his least favourite classes.

But Monday morning hit he and Ron right between the eyes, when after having descended the boy's dormitory staircase, the presence of a large sign quickly burst the weekend high. By order of the High Inquisitor of Hogwarts, all student organizations, societies, teams, groups and clubs were henceforth disbanded, until permission was given by the High Inquisitor herself; Educational Decree Number Twenty-four.

Harry and Ron were immediately suspicious that their secret meeting had been leaked by one of its attendees. Ron was the first to throw out the suspicion of Michael Corner, and although Harry wasn't as convinced, he liked the way Ron was thinking. The two immediately took off to discuss the matter with Hermione. Surely they would all be serving detentions if their little rebellion had been discovered. To their immense relief, Hermione informed them that she had charmed the paper everyone had signed on Saturday; that if anyone snitched, it would cause the tattler to break out into terrible boils.

With their heads down and their ears open, the three left for breakfast in the Great Hall. Once there, it was apparent that the notice had been circulating all over the school, as the large room was abuzz with chatter. Harry, Ron and Hermione had barely taken their seats when Neville, Dean, Fred, George and Ginny descended upon them. The group was all low whispers; speculating whether the decree was specifically about the meeting on Saturday.

"What are we going to do?" asked Ginny, who had taken the seat next to Harry.

He looked down into her inquisitive gaze, and found the tension that had been hanging around him since he'd read the decree slowly lifting. Harry glanced around to make sure there were no teachers near them.

"We're going to do it anyway, of course," he said quietly to the group.

This earned Harry a winning smile from Ginny, and a, "Knew you'd say that," from George, who beamed at him and thumped him on the arm.

It seemed everyone from the meeting was eager to hear that it would continue on as planned. Hermione had to wave away Ernie and Hannah, who had wanted to join the discussion, in order to keep suspicions low.

"I'll tell Michael," said Ginny impatiently, swinging herself off the bench.

She hurried off towards the Ravenclaw table; Harry watched her go. Cho was sitting not far away, talking to the curly-haired friend she had brought along to the Hog's Head. Would Umbridge's notice scare her off meeting them again.

But the full repercussions of the sign were not felt until they were leaving the Great Hall for History of Magic. Angelina, acting Gryffindor Quidditch captain, desperate and out of sorts, found Harry and Ron in the hallway and reminded them that the decree included Quidditch teams as well. They would need Umbridge's permission in order to play. Harry wondered if this day could get any worse. They parted ways with the captain, but not before she begged Harry to keep his temper in Umbridge's classes. With a promise that he would try, Harry, Ron and Hermione headed off to a full day of classes.

Harry was half expecting to see Umbridge in Professor Binn's classroom, to give her official opinion about the curriculum, but instead he was met with a thoroughly mangled and injured Hedwig. The great snowy owl's wing was hanging oddly, and her feathers were sticking at odd angles. It looked as if the bird had been attacked. With a lame excuse of feeling poorly, Harry quickly scooped up his feathered friend and raced to find Professor Grubby-Plank in hopes that the Care of Magical Creatures professor, could help Hedwig.

Racing around the castle, he finally found her in Professor McGonagall's office. After explaining why he was out of class to a very stern McGonagall, Grubby-Plank agreed to look after the injured owl. Harry was about to leave, when the tall Transfiguration professor reminded him of the letter attached to Hedwig's leg. Harry knew that McGonagall understood that this letter almost certainly came from No. 12 Grimmauld place, and she warned him that all mail was being monitored both in and out of Hogwarts.

Harry met up with Hermione and Ron once again, quickly reading the scrawled note that had been attached to Hedwig's leg.

_Same time, same place? _

_Snuffles_

The three conjectured that Sirius had meant the common room fireplace late this coming Sunday night. They all thought it too risky, but non could think of a un-risky way of letting Sirius know that. Trudging down to the dungeons for Potions, they were met by Draco Malfoy who was bragging that he had gotten the Slytherin Quidditch team's approval by Umbridge that very morning.

"Well, it was pretty automatic, I mean, she knows my father really well, he's always popping in and out of the Ministry...it'll be interesting to see whether Gryffindor is allowed to keep playing, won't it?" Malfoy boasted, making a point to meet Harry and Ron's eyes.

Despite Hermione's insistence that they don't let themselves get caught up in Malfoy's bait, it was surprisingly Neville who charged past Harry to take a swing at Malfoy. Harry and Ron grabbed the round boy, preventing him from what would have been a sure pummeling from Crabbe and Goyle. By the end of things, Ron, Harry and Neville had all gotten a detention from Snape.

It was a gruelling day of classes. Harry did his best to behave with Umbridge's presence in Potions. Followed by Professor Trelawney's near melt down in Divination and Angelina informing he and Ron that Umbridge was 'taking time to consider' the Gryffindor Quidditch team, Harry was ready to have this day over with.

Harry, Ron and Hermione ended up being the last in the common room again, with Harry needing to finish up his extra Potion's essay he'd earned that day from Snape. There were three collective gasps when Sirius' head popped up in the flames of the hearth once more.

"How're things?" Sirius asked his godson empathetically, as if he already knew the answer.

Harry immediately told him about the newest educational decree, "..which means we're not allowed to have Quidditch teams-"

"Or secret Defense Against the Dark Arts groups? offered Sirius.

Harry demanded how on earth, Sirius could know about that, to which he answered that Mundungus Fletcher had been tasked to watch Harry that day during the Hogsmeade weekend, and had overheard their little meeting. Harry wasn't too keen to learn that he was still being followed.

Sirius was the first to point out that the first thing his godson, who was supposed to be staying out of trouble, did on his first weekend off was organize an illegal defense group. To Harry's relief, Sirius sounded neither disappointed or mad, rather he was looking at Harry with distinct pride.

He then passed along a message from Mrs. Weasley, forbidding Ron to take part in the Defense Against the Dark Arts group, and strongly urging Hermione and Harry to refrain as well. Once again Harry was surprised when Sirius advised them to do the exact opposite of Mrs. Weasley.

"Well, better expelled and able to defend yourselves than sitting safely in school without a clue," said Sirius, and Harry and Ron agreed enthusiastically.

"And make sure Ginny gets to those meetings as well, Harry," Sirius added firmly, giving Harry a stern look.

"Oh, yeah, she was at the meeting. The twins too," dismissed Ron, missing the significance of Sirius' words. Harry gave a solemn nod to Sirius. She would always be in danger because of him.

The subject was soon changed to where these meetings would take place. A large passageway was suggested and shot down, then the Shrieking Shack was suggested; the first promising notion. And then suddenly Sirius was gone. The student's looked at each other, wondering why he would just leave, when a hand appeared amongst the flames, groping as though to catch hold of something; a stubby short-fingered hand covered in ugly old-fashioned rings. Umbridge's hand.

The three of them ran for it. At the door of the boys' dormitory Harry looked back. Umbridge's hand was still making snatching movements amongst the flames, as though she knew exactly where Sirius's hair had been moments before and was determined to seize it.

The next day in Charms, Hermione told Harry of the depressing notion that it had been Umbridge who had attacked and injured Hedwig, wanting to read the letter attached to her leg. This made Harry very nervous, knowing that if Umbridge had been even a minute earlier the night before Sirius would already be in Azkaban by now.

Luckily good news came in the form of Angelina.

"I've got permission!" she said. "To re-form the Quidditch team!"

Their first practice was that night at seven o'clock, and the weather could not have been worse. After squelching through a miserable rain-filled practice, Harry felt completely out of sorts. His scar was hurting, and he felt that he knew that Voldemort was upset about something. Once practice was called Ron asked him about it. Harry did his best to explain, but his head was throbbing too much. Ron suggested he go tell Dumbledore, and Harry reminded Ron that Dumbledore already knew, so what was the point. He had been absent almost completely from Harry's life these past few months. Why would Harry go to him?

That night Harry did his best to study Herbology only to fall into restless sleep on the couch, all the while his mind buzzing with Voldemort's emotions. He was walking once more along the windowless corridor, his footsteps echoing in the silence. Just as he was finally about to see beyond the closed door, Harry found himself awake in the common room once more, in the presence of Dobby the house elf.

Harry was happy to see Dobby, and they chatted on about about Winky and Hedwig. It was then that Harry got the notion to ask the house elf if he knew of a room in Hogwarts for Harry to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts.

* * *

The word was spread, and the next night all twenty eight students met in the Room of Requirements. The walls were lined with wooden bookcases and instead of chairs there were large silk cushions on the floor. A set of shelves at the far end of the room carried a range of instruments such as Sneakoscopes, Secrecy Sensors and a large, cracked Foe-Glass that Harry was sure had hung, the previous year, in the fake Moody's office.

The first order of business, per Hermione was to elect a leader, to which Cho immediately argued that Harry was obviously the leader. Harry's stomach did another back flip at this. Hermione insisted a vote was taken, in order to give the leader authority. It was a unanimous vote for Harry, even Zacharias Smith raised his hand, though he did it half-heartedly.

Then the business of picking a name. A few cracks about Umbridge were thrown out, before Cho suggested Defence Association.

"The DA for short, so nobody knows what we're talking about," Cho added.

"Yeah, the DA's good," said Ginny. "Only let's make it stand for Dumbledore's Army, because that's the Ministry's worst fear, isn't it?"

There was a good deal of appreciative murmuring and laughter at this. Harry shot a warning look over to the fourth year red head. She was entirely too spunky. That kind of attitude would only land her in detentions with Umbridge herself.

But Ginny only returned a defiant raise of her eyebrow, and Harry had a hard time keeping his stern expression from turning into a proud smirk, as the twins commended their sister on showing what they called the "true Weasley spirit."

It was another unanimous vote, and Hermione pinned the piece of parchment with all of their signatures on it on to the wall and wrote across the top in large letters: DUMBLEDORE'S ARMY

Harry thought it felt very odd to be issuing instructions, but not nearly as odd as seeing them followed. Everybody got to their feet at once and divided up to practice disarming spells. He partnered himself up with Neville who made amazing progress, successfully disarming Harry when he was caught unawares.

Harry congratulated Neville and moved off in the middle of the room to watch everyone's progress. Ginny was teamed with Michael Corner; she was doing very well, whereas Michael was either very bad or unwilling to jinx her. Harry made a note to himself to pair against Ginny at some point to make sure she was getting good practice later. He watched as Luna Lovegood made Justin Finch-Fletchley's hair stand on end, and Ernie Macmillan flourish his wand in the air unnecessarily.

He finally got the nerve to go over and talk to Cho, who immediately sent a rogue spell bouncing off of her friend Marietta. Harry was pleased to hear that he had made her nervous.

Before too long practice was over, everyone eager to find a time to get together again. Everyone bustled off in the direction of their respective dormitories, Harry following an arguing Ron and Hermione, who were determined that they had disarmed the other more often. They argued all the way back to the common room, but Harry was not listening to them. He had one eye on the Marauder's Map, but he was also thinking of Cho saying he made her nervous.

* * *

Harry felt as though he were carrying some kind of talisman inside his chest over the following two weeks, a glowing secret that supported him through Umbridge's classes and even made it possible for him to smile blandly as he looked into her horrible bulging eyes. He and the DA were resisting her under her very nose, doing the very thing she and the Ministry most feared, and whenever he was supposed to be reading Wilbert Slinkhard's book during her lessons he dwelled instead on satisfying memories of their most recent meetings, remembering how Neville had successfully disarmed Hermione, how Colin Creevey had mastered the Impediment Jinx after three meetings' hard effort, how Parvati Patil had produced such a good Reductor Curse that she had reduced the table carrying all the Sneakoscopes to dust.

Hermione soon devised a very clever method of communicating the time and date of the next meeting to all the members in case they needed to change it at short notice, because it would look suspicious if people from different Houses were seen crossing the Great Hall to talk to each other too often. She gave each of the members of the DA a fake Galleon that would show the date of the next meeting where the numerals on the edge of the coin would be.

But DA meetings would have to wait as the first quidditch game of the season was fast approaching. Harry was not too concerned, seeing as his team had never lost against Malfoy before. However, tensions were high as the Slytherins took to relentless teasing and trickery of their Gryffindor contenders. Alicia Spinnet was sent to the Hospital Wing after the Slytherin Keeper, Miles Bletchley, jinxed her eyebrows to grow at an alarming rate. But it was Ron who took the brunt of it, as every Slytherin sported a shining medal on their chest that said, "Weasley is Our King!"

Ron who had always faltered when confidence was down seemed paralyzed with fear on the day of the first quidditch game of the season. Harry had to drag Ron down to the Great Hall that morning, and a worried Ginny wondered if he was fit enough to play. Surprisingly, it was Hermione who seemed to bring Ron out of his terrified state. She wished him luck, and lifted herself up onto her toes, kissing the terrified Keeper on the cheek.

The November day was bright and chilled as the game began. It was hard to say if things could have gone any worse, what with the Slytherin fans singing a rousing song, titled 'Weasley is Our King' to match their badges. Ron blundered back and forth on the pitch, his ears glowing as red as his hair. Rogue bludgers knocked through the air. Harry waited, expecting for Gryffindor to catch up to the Slytherin's goals, but Ron couldn't seem to stop the quaffles from zooming through his hoops.

Mercifully, Harry spotted the glint of gold shining just above the ground. Malfoy was closer, but Harry streaked toward the little sphere. Neck and neck, Harry extended his hand and clasped it around victory. He had done it! Gryffindor had won! Harry was elated until he was tossed to the ground by a bludger to the back, hit by the sore loser Crabbe, and it seemed like all the Slytherin's were going to be sore losers. As Harry was congratulated by his team, and the Gryffindor students who had rushed the pitch in victory, Malfoy made it a point to discuss the lyrics of the recently popular, 'Weasley is Our King.'

' - we couldn't fit in useless loser either - for his father, you know - '

Fred and George had realised what Malfoy was talking about and falfway through shaking Harry's hand, they stiffened, looking round at Malfoy.

'Leave it!' said Angelina at once, taking Fred by the arm. 'Leave it, Fred, let him yell, he's just sore he lost, the jumped-up little -

' - but you like the Weasleys, don't you, Potter?' said Malfoy, sneering. 'Spend holidays there and everything, don't you? Can't see how you stand the stink, but I suppose when you've been dragged up by Muggles, even the Weasleys' hovel smells OK - '

Harry grabbed hold of George. Meanwhile, it was taking the combined efforts of Angelina, Alicia and Katie to stop Fred leaping on Malfoy, who was laughing openly. Harry looked around for Madam Hooch, but she was still berating Crabbe for his illegal Bludger attack.

'Or perhaps,' said Malfoy, leering as he backed away, 'you can remember what your mother's house stank like, Potter, and Weasley's pigsty reminds you of it - '

Harry was not aware of releasing George, all he knew was that a second later both of them were sprinting towards Malfoy. He had completely forgotten that all the teachers were watching: all he wanted to do was cause Malfoy as much pain as possible; with no time to draw out his wand, he merely drew back the fist clutching the Snitch and sank it as hard as he could into Malfoy's stomach -

'Harry! HARRY! GEORGE! NO!'

He could hear girls' voices screaming, Malfoy yelling, George swearing, a whistle blowing and the bellowing of the crowd around him, but he did not care. The crowd of students pushed into the fray, as a few tried to break up the fight.

'What do you think you're doing?' screamed Madam Hooch, as Harry was pulled to his feet by Ginny Weasley. While Madame Hooch tended to the sniveling Malfoy on the ground, Ginny looked Harry over for injuries.

"Feel better, now?" Ginny scoffed, surveying his still clenched fist.

Adrenaline was still humming through his veins when he answered with an irritated, "Yes, actually."

The redhead rolled her eyes, "Well, remember this fleeting feeling of satisfaction, when they're doling out your punishment."

Harry watched as Madame Hooch _episkied_ away Malfoy's bloody nose. "I have a feeling this memory will keep me happy for a long time," he told her honestly.

Ginny gave out a tsk tsk, her fingers grazing over his already bruised knuckles, before she replied, "You realize you're one of the best duelers in the school, yet you _had_ to use your fists?"

Harry flexed his fist in her hand, reveling in the pain. "What he was saying about your dad-"

"I doubt my father would concern himself whatever Draco Malfoy was saying," Ginny interrupted, and Harry closed his mouth at the truth of her words. His jaw clenched while she used a healing spell on his bloodied knuckles. "But," Ginny added primly after a beat, looking up at him, "if Malfoy ever talks about your mother that way again, you'll be pulling me off of him."

Harry found himself smiling, the stinging of his hand ebbing a bit as Ginny healed him. "You're such an idiot," she added with a shake of her head.

He looked around the fray. The crowd of students was dense and loud; Malfoy was still curled up on the ground, whimpering and moaning, his nose clean now; George was sporting a swollen lip; Fred was still being forcibly restrained by the three Chasers, and Crabbe was cackling in the background. But it was Madam Hooch's livid expression that brought Harry to agree. "Yeah, it seems like it," he conceded, bracing himself as Madam Hooch's ears seemed to almost steam. They were in for it.

"Hell of a right hook, though," Ginny added quietly into Harry's ear.

Harry found himself smirking when the flying instructor opened her mouth and screamed, "'I've never seen behaviour like it - back up to the castle, both of you, and straight to your Head of House's office! Go! Now.''

It was time to face the consequences. "Make sure you tell Michael about that," Harry told Ginny with a quirked eyebrow, before joining Fred and George to head back up to the castle.

It was educational decree number twenty-five that got Fred, George, and Harry banned from Quidditch for the rest of the year. This decree allowed the High Inquisitor take over all punishments at Hogwarts, and although Professor McGonagall was vehemently against Umbridge's meddling, her hands were tied. There was no celebrating in the Gryffindor common room that night. It was hard to say whose spirits were lower, Harry for never getting to play Quidditch again, or Ron, who had no choice but to. Hermione offered a bit of news that she hoped would help them out of their foul moods. Hagrid was back.

* * *

**AN: **As always, tell me what you think. Still a lot of summary, but I'm trying to weave things carefully.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** Things will be picking up from this chapter forward.

* * *

They slipped briskly into an intimacy from which they never recovered

-F. Scott Fitzgerald

* * *

_The Great Hall was thumping to the music of the Weird Sisters, with happy couples dancing and laughing about. Returning in from the cold, Harry and Ron found a quiet corner; not quite as charmed as their fellow students. After discussing the notion of Hagrid's being half giant for a while, Harry noticed Ginny and Neville dancing. Ginny was wincing every now and then from getting stepped by Neville's rather large, uncoordinated feet. _

_That familiar niggling of guilt settled heavily in his gut once more. He'd been really terrible to her. Maybe he was a little uncomfortable around her, because of her crush on him, but they were stuck in this together, thanks to him. He thought back as to how he had brushed her off when she'd come to him, worried that dancing with another boy would cause her pain because of the bond. He'd promised that he would find time for them to dance before the ball took place, but with school work, the tournament tasks, and the notion of asking Cho Chang to accompany him, dancing with Ginny did not happen. _

_He shouldn't have brushed her off so much. By the time he'd realized how much of a git he'd been acting like the Yule Ball was just days away. He'd even agreed to meet her earlier that, but was sidetracked by Dobby. Harry hoped that the dress he'd bought for her would some how make up for the fact that he'd abandoned her when she needed him. _

_"You ready to go?" Ron asked him. He was looking rather glum, but Harry had one last thing to take care of. _

_"Go on, I'll catch up in a bit," Harry replied standing. Ron was having such a poor time, he didn't question why Harry was delayed, and made his way out of the Great Hall. Harry eyes searched the room for the rest of Ginny's older brothers, and seeing them all thoroughly occupied, he made his way through the crowd of dancing students._

_"Mind if I cut in?" He asked, reaching Neville and Ginny, who were chatting on while slow dancing to a wafting tune. _

_Neville raised his eyebrows in surprise at Harry's words. Ginny on the other hand fixed Harry with a sharp look. She'd never looked at him that way before, sure love sick or petrified, but never angry. _

_"Sure, Harry-" Neville began._

_"No," Ginny interjected quickly, a tone of indifference in her voice, "he can't." This took Harry by surprise once more. He had really upset her._

_Neville looked back and forth between the two curiously; unsure what to do. _

_"Neville," warned Harry, never taking his eyes off of Ginny, who was staring back at him defiantly. Harry was suddenly feeling rather possessive of the red headed third year. _

_The round-faced boy took heed to Harry's words and let go of Ginny, leaving them alone together in the crowd of people. _

_Calming himself, Harry took a steadying breath and in a gentle tone he asked, "Dance with me?" _

_Ginny stood opposite him with her arms crossed over her chest, considering him for a moment. She looked older than her thirteen years in the dress Madam Malkin had picked out for her. The deep blue gown fit her perfectly, which looked very nice against her long red hair, that she had curled and pulled back in a loose ponytail. _

_"The dress looks very nice on you," he offered, hoping the reminder of his gift, would soften her anger towards him. _

_With a sigh, Ginny abandoned her angry stance and stepped into his arms to dance, "Thank you," she said stiffly as they began to sway in time with the music. "I wasn't going to wear it, but it looked too expensive to let it go to waste," she added pointedly looking away from him. _

_"I'm really sorry about not dancing with you before the Ball," Harry apologized. _

_"Forget it, Harry," Ginny dismissed, her tone annoyed. _

_"No, I was selfish," Harry reasoned, knowing he owed her a proper apology. "You came to me needing my help and I brushed you off. I shouldn't have done that," he told her._

_Ginny was looking at him now, with an expression on her face Harry was having a hard time deciphering._

_"I didn't mean to bother you," she explained tensely._

_"I know," Harry agreed._

_"It's just that I was worried I'd get hurt-" _

_"I know."_

_"I get that you like Cho," she told him, going slightly pink, "I wasn't trying to trick you-"_

_"I know. I'm sorry," he agreed once more, feeling like the smallest person in the world. "This is just all so complicated. I didn't ask for this," Harry tried to explain._

_"Neither did I!" Ginny said quickly, her cheeks pinking further at the accusation._

_"I know!" Harry said again for what seemed like the millionth time. He was really making a mess of things. With a calming breath he went on, "Look, I know I really messed things up. I told you that you could come to me if you needed anything, and the first time you did, I blew it. Are you hurt?" _

_"No," she answered quickly, "I feel fine."_

_"Good," he sighed in relief. _

_"I know. It seems that part of the bond isn't true," she told him with a feint smile on her face. Harry found himself smiling as well. _

_"That's a relief," Harry breathed. He watched Ginny as she nodded her agreement. He was struck with how easy it was to talk to her; even when they were arguing. She'd always been shy and nervous around him in the past. He liked this change. "Well, if that's no longer a factor, why don't we just take this as it comes? We've got three more years till anything is required of us. In the mean time we'll research how to break the bond and go about our lives like normal. We'll deal with the bond when it gets here. What do you say?" Harry suggested, lightness coming to him that he hadn't felt in a long time. _

_Ginny seemed to think for a moment. "Yeah," she agreed thoughtfully, "I think that's a good idea."_

_Harry let out a sigh of relief, and Ginny smiled brightly at him this time. "I am sorry," he reminded her, hoping she understood how much he meant it._

_"It's, okay," she told him. "It seems you're just as human as the rest of us," she added as if she was just realizing this herself. Harry found himself rather comforted by her words. _

_The song ended, and Harry let go of her. "Friends?" he asked hopefully._

_"Friends," she agreed._

* * *

At the news of Hagrid's return, Harry sprinted up to the boy's dormitory and grabbed his invisibility cloak. Throwing it around Ron and Hermione and himself, they headed out into the cold night to see their long absent friend. To their immense shock Hagrid's face was covered in bruises and oozing some thick blood. After some determined questioning by the three, Hagrid finally relented, explaining that he and Madame Maxime from Beauxbaton, had gone to the mountains to rally support for Dumbledore from the giants. The plight had been unfortunately unsuccessful.

A knock at the door had them all ducking back under the invisibility cloak, before Umbridge entered the cabin. They all listened eagerly, as the toad-like woman badgered Hagrid about his absence, but Hagrid wouldn't budge. She left unsatisfied warning Hagrid of her place as High Inquisitor. Hermione did her best to warn Hagrid of the thorough inspections of the classes.

Hermione spent the rest of her weekend trying to help Hagrid with lesson plans, although her work was all for naught come Tuesday morning. The entire fifth year Care of Magical Creatures class tramped down into the Forbidden Forest, along with the delighted looking Professor Umbridge, who was scribbling notes from the moment she'd arrived. During class Harry learned that the winged horse-like creatures he'd seen pulling the carriages at the beginning of the year were called Thestrals. He was even keener to learn that they could only be seen by those who had seen death. Harry didn't feel particularly lucky to be apart of this morbid club. It had been Cedric's death last year that had given him this ability.

* * *

As December blew itself in, Harry felt a bit out of sorts until he learned that he was invited to the Burrow for the holiday. For the first time in his school career, he very much wanted to spend the holidays away from Hogwarts. Between his Quidditch ban and worry about whether or not Hagrid was going to be put on probation, he felt highly resentful towards the place at the moment.

Harry arrived early in the Room of Requirement for the last DA meeting before the holidays and was very glad he had, because when the torches burst into flames he saw that Dobby had taken it upon himself to decorate the place for Christmas. He could tell the elf had done it, because nobody else would have strung a hundred golden baubles from the ceiling, each showing a picture of Harry's face and bearing the legend: 'HAVE A VERY HARRY CHRISTMAS!'

As the students started piling in, it was Angelina and Katie Bell who brought the interesting news of Harry's replacement on the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

"Ginny Weasley," said Katie.

Harry gaped at her. He didn't even know she was interested in Quidditch.

"Yeah, I know, agreed Angelina, pulling out her wand and flexing her arm, 'but she's pretty good, actually. Nothing on you, of course," she said, throwing him a very dirty look, "but as we can't have you . . ."

The arrival of Ron, Hermione and Neville brought this depressing discussion to an end, and within five minutes the room was full enough to prevent Harry seeing Angelina's burning, reproachful looks.

'OK,' he said, calling them all to order. "I thought this evening we should just go over the things we've done so far, because it's the last meeting before the holidays and there's no point starting anything new right before a three-week break - "

"We're not doing anything new?" said Zacharias Smith, in a disgruntled whisper loud enough to carry through the room. "If I'd known that, I wouldn't have come."

"We're all really sorry Harry didn't tell you, then," said Fred loudly.

Several people sniggered. Harry saw Cho laughing and felt the familiar swooping sensation in his stomach, as though he had missed a step going downstairs.

' - we can practice in pairs,' said Harry. 'We'll start with the Impediment Jinx, for ten minutes, then we can get out the cushions and try Stunning again.'

They all divided up obediently; Harry partnered Neville as usual. The room was soon full of intermittent cries of 'Impedimenta!' People froze for a minute or so, during which their partner would stare aimlessly around the room watching other pairs at work, then would unfreeze and take their turn at the jinx.

After ten minutes on the Impediment Jinx, they laid out cushions all over the floor and started practising Stunning again. Space was really too confined to allow them all to work this spell at once; half the group observed the others for a while, then swapped over.

Harry felt himself positively swelling with pride as he watched them all. True, Neville did Stun Padma Patil rather than Dean, at whom he had been aiming, but it was a much closer miss than usual, and everybody else had made enormous progress. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ginny laughing at Michael Corner, who had been goofing around all night.

He found himself growing irate at how little effort they were putting into tonight's practice. This was the last DA meeting before Christmas break, and Harry wondered if Ginny had learned anything at all with a practice partner like Michael Corner. As Michael reached out and pushed a strand of Ginny's long red hair behind her ear Harry found his firt clenching his wand.

"Ginny!" he almost shouted. She immediately turned to the sound of his voice; shooting Harry an odd look. Michael's hand immediately dropped from her hair.

"Yes, Harry?" she replied eyeing him as if he were crazy.

"Got the stunning spell down then?" Harry asked sharply, directing his attention to Michael. The Ravenclaw was looking rather sheepish under the attention. Harry's jaw ticked in frustration. Ginny needed to know how to defend herself, especially since she was so closely tied to Harry, and Harry was so tied to danger.

"Yeah," Ginny affirmed shortly, before turning her attention back to Michael.

"Good. Then you two wouldn't mind showing me," Harry suggested, a tone of forced indifference in his words. Ginny's brown eyes snapped back to Harry's.

"Fine," Ginny agreed tightly, and she and Michael got into duelling positions. Harry stood with his arms crossed over his chest as the couple raised their wands. Ginny gave Michael a shrug of her shoulders, and Michael returned with a nervous look.

The Ravenclaw boy sent out a weak stunner, that Ginny easily dodged. "Stupefy!" Ginny cried, her aim true and Michael barely had time to deflect it. He sent back another, and with barely a flourish from Ginny's wand the spell bounced away from her causing a few books to topple off a high shelf. With one more "stupefy!" from her lips, the spell hit Michael square in the chest. His wand flew out of his hand, and he was propelled back off of his feet.

Ginny was a good mark, but she had never had to deflect a particularly harsh one. Harry sighed, frustrated at Michael's lack of skill or timidity at dueling with Ginny. He got into motion, walking over to the Ravenclaw, and helping pull him up.

"Are you alright?" asked a concerned Ginny, who had come over to check on her boyfriend.

"He's fine," Harry answered shortly, giving the embarrassed Michael a clap on the back. "Get back into position. We'll practice, while Michael rests."

Harry turned then to look at Ginny, who had fixed him with a rather stern glare.

"Yeah, I think I will sit out for a minute," Michael agreed, moving off to the side. His face was a bit ashen.

"What is your problem?" demanded Ginny under her breath, once Michael was out of earshot.

"My problem? My problem is that you need to focus and stop flirting!" Harry responded heatedly.

"That's rich. I just stupefied Michael on my second stun!" Ginny whispered back defiantly.

Harry scoffed, "Yes, brilliant. We can take comfort knowing you could take down a blast-ended skrewt!"

Ginny opened her mouth as if to respond, before closing it again. Harry and Ginny exchanged a tense glance before Ginny conceded with a clenched, "fine," and whipped around moving back to her spot across the room.

Harry grabbed his wand from his pocket and moved into position as well. Couldn't she see that he was trying to protect her?! Michael was a terrible influence on her. Weren't Ravenclaws known for putting knowledge first?

"Stupefy!" Ginny bellowed, sending a particularly strong jinx at Harry, which he barely dodged. Surprised, Harry looked over to Ginny, who gave him a raise of her red eyebrow. The corner of his mouth ticked up a bit.

"Stupefy!" Harry whispered with a mild flourish of his wand, and the subtle jinx brushed just passed Ginny, sending her onto her knees. Ginny gasped, as she whipped her red hair over her shoulder, looking at Harry mutinously. From her knees, she sent another stunner at Harry, that hit him in the shoulder, nearly disarming him.

This got the attention of the other students in the room, and they slowly stopped practicing and stood to watch the two duel. "Get'em sis!" Fred cried, as she sent a particularly strong jinx Harry's way, causing him to dive to the right. Back and forth the two went, jinxing just to be deflected or dodged. Harry found himself sweating from effort, and he noticed Ginny's cheeks were pink from exertion. But Ginny didn't look tired, rather her eyes were clear; she looked exhilarated.

Ginny sent another stunner Harry's way, and he whipped around to dodge it, sending another hurtling back towards her. With her long red hair flying behind her, she deflected the spell with some effort. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry noticed Cho watching the duel with an odd look on her face. He wondered, what she thought of their duel. A moment of distraction was all it took for it to be too late to deflect Ginny's stunner she sent his way. The jinx hit him square in the gut, doubling him over to his knees, and sending his wand across the room.

A grand eruption of cheering and applause filled the large room. Harry took a few steadying breaths, and looked up in time to see Ginny being hoisted up onto the twins shoulders, and Lee Jordan reluctantly handing over a galleon to George. Ron and Hermione came over to Harry, who was still sitting on his knees. Ron offered a hand to Harry, pulling him up.

"That was brilliant!" Ron commended. "And Ginny..." he added, sounding stunned himself, "well she was always tough."

"Yeah, she is," Harry found himself agreeing as he watched the twins parading Ginny around the room; the students cheering them on. He caught her gaze for a moment, and a reluctant, yet proud smile drew up the corners of his mouth. A sense of relief filled Harry, and he went over to retrieve his wand and when he returned he noticed Hermione looking at him rather oddly.

"What?" he asked her uncomfortably, jamming his wand back into his pocket.

"Nothing," she replied, although it didn't sound at all like nothing. The parade had come to an end, and all the students were chattering on excitingly, discussing the duel.

Harry called of their attention, as the end of the hour had come. "'You're getting really good," he said, beaming around at them. "When we get back from the holidays we can start doing some of the big stuff - maybe even Patronuses."

There was a murmur of excitement. The room began to clear in the usual twos and threes; most people wished Harry a 'Happy Christmas' as they went.

As Ginny passed by him she offered her hand to shake. Harry grinned and took it. "Nice job Weasley," he commended.

"Not too bad yourself," She replied, "Just one word of advice: focus and stop flirting," she repeated his words back to him, with a cheeky grin. Letting Harry know she saw just what had distracted him during their duel. Harry knew he'd been a hypocrite, and was about to apologize when Michael Corner joined them. Harry quickly dropped Ginny's hand.

"Impressive dueling, Harry," Michael greeted, as he came over and slung an arm over Ginny's shoulder.

Harry suddenly had a sinking feeling in his gut. "Thanks," Harry replied awkwardly.

"Ready to go?" Michael asked, pulling Ginny closer to his side. Harry eyed the Ravenclaw's hand that grasped Ginny's shoulder.

"Uh, yeah," agreed Ginny, giving Harry a parting smile.

"Great," said Michael, "You can protect me on the way back to the dorms." Ginny laughed as Michael gave her a warm squeeze. Harry was less amused.

"Oh, and Ginny," Harry found himself calling after the two. Ginny stopped and looked back over her shoulder. "See you at the Burrow over Christmas."

Ginny blinked at him oddly, as if he had just told her that the sky was blue. "Yeah," she agreed, "Mum told me." Harry nodded confidently, not bothering to look over at the Ravenclaw. Ginny wished him a 'Happy Christmas.', and left the room holding hands with Michael.

Feeling a bit more cheerful, he collected up the cushions with Ron and Hermione and stacked them neatly away. Ron and Hermione left before he did; he hung back a little, because Cho was still there and he was hoping to receive a 'Merry Christmas' from her.

* * *

It was later that night, Harry recounted what had happened between he and Cho, after Ron and Hermione left them alone in the Room of Requirements.

"Did you kiss?" asked Hermione briskly.

Harry looked from Ron's expression of mingled curiosity and hilarity to Hermione's slight frown, and nodded.

"HA!"

Ron made a triumphant gesture with his fist and went into a raucous peal of laughter that made several timid-looking second-years over beside the window jump. A reluctant grin spread over Harry's face as he watched Ron rolling around on the hearthrug.

Hermione gave Ron a look of deep disgust and returned to her letter.

"Well?" Ron said finally, looking up at Harry. "How was it?"

Harry considered for a moment.

"Wet," he said truthfully.

Ron made a noise that might have indicated jubilation or disgust, it was hard to tell.

"Because she was crying," Harry continued heavily.

"Oh," said Ron, his smile fading slightly. "Are you that bad at kissing?"

Harry wondered if that were true, which Hermione immediately dismissed. It's not as if Harry hadn't enjoyed the kiss, it was more that when he'd pictured himself kissing or really spending time with Cho, she was not weepy and sad, as she'd been since the beginning of term. He'd liked her for so long, Harry wondered if he remembered why. Sure she was very pretty, but the fact that the thought of asking her out made his stomach clench, made him think that alone might not be enough.

Later, Harry wondered off to bed; his mind trying to decipher how he really felt about Cho. He thought it truly strange that now that he'd actually gotten something he'd wanted, and now he didn't even know if he wanted it any more. Agitated, Harry fell into a restless sleep. Thoughts of Cho and his new predicament swimming through his head.

It wasn't until he was woken up by a worried Ron, his scar burning covered in a cold sweat, that he realized that he had been dreaming about a man being viciously attacked by a giant snake. But this was no ordinary dream, this felt too real. Neville brought back a robed-clad McGonagall.

"I was having a dream at first about something completely different, something stupid . . . and then this interrupted it. It was real, I didn't imagine it. Mr Weasley was asleep on the floor and he was attacked by a gigantic snake, there was loads of blood, he collapsed, someone's got to find out where he is . . ."

Professor McGonagall was gazing at him through her lopsided spectacles as though horrified at what she was seeing. "I believe you, Potter,' said Professor McGonagall curtly. 'Put on your dressing gown - we're going to see the Headmaster."

Harry was less inclined to reveal that he had been the snake in the dream, and he was the one to do the attacking.

* * *

Harry did his best to describe the dream in detail to the Headmaster, but found his temper wearing thin as Dumbledore refused to look him in the eyes.

"I mean . . . can you remember - er - where you were positioned as you watched this attack happen?" Dumbledore asked. "Were you perhaps standing beside the victim, or else looking down on the scene from above?"

This was such a curious question that Harry gaped at Dumbledore; it was almost as though he knew...

'I was the snake,' Harry answered tightly. 'I saw it all from the snake's point of view.'

Nobody else spoke for a moment, then Dumbledore, now looking at Ron who was still whey-faced, asked in a new and sharper voice, "Is Arthur seriously injured?"

Harry answered in the affirmative. Dumbledore quickly sent a former Headmaster in one of the portraits hanging in the office to alert someone in the Ministry of Magic, and sent McGonagall to gather the rest of the Weasley children. While they waited news of Arthur being found in the Ministry and badly injured came. He was being taken to St. Mungo's.

The rest of the Weasley's showed up not too long after. Harry stood as a very concerned and very disheveled Fred and George entered the office, followed by Ginny. She looked so fragile, with her long red hair down, and what must have been one of Bill Weasley's old Christmas sweaters, pulled on over her white night gown.

Her concerned brown eyes found his immediately and Harry felt his stomach turn over with guilt. He was suddenly overcome with the urge to pull her into his arms and protect her from this somehow.

"Harry - what's going on?" she asked, looking frightened. "Professor McGonagall says you saw Dad get hurt - "

"Your father has been injured in the course of his work for the Order of the Phoenix," said Dumbledore, before Harry could speak. "He has been taken to St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. I am sending you back to Sirius's house, which is much more convenient for the hospital than The Burrow. You will meet your mother there."

They were to travel by portkey, and as they all gathered round a blackened kettle, Harry looked to Dumbledore for a moment, who finally looked back. At once, Harry's scar burned white-hot, as though the old wound had burst open again - and unbidden, unwanted, but terrifyingly strong, there rose within Harry a hatred so powerful he felt, for that instant, he would like nothing better than to strike - to bite - to sink his fangs into the man before him - '

Suddenly Harry was lurched backwards as the portkey hurtled the children to No. 12 Grimmauld place, and the urge to strike was gone. Sirius greeted them, and asked Harry to recount what he saw, the Weasley children listening intently. Without being able to do much else they all stayed up waiting for news about Mr. Weasley. The tired group sat around a dying fire in the sitting room, sipping butterbeer, and feeling altogether miserable.

Harry watched as Ginny curled herself up like a cat on the sofa, and it took Harry reminding himself that he was surrounded by her brothers to keep from going to her.

Finally Mrs. Weasley returned from St. Mungo's with news that Mr. Weasley was going to be all right. She immediately pulled Harry into a bone crushing hug, thanking him for saving Arthur's life. Although this did little to cheer him, who still thought it all may have been his fault.

* * *

Everyone but Harry spent the rest of the morning sleeping. He went up to the bedroom he and Ron had shared over the last few weeks of summer, but while Ron crawled into bed and was asleep within minutes, Harry sat fully clothed, hunched against the cold metal bars of the bedstead, keeping himself deliberately uncomfortable, determined not to fall into a doze, terrified that he might become the serpent again in his sleep and wake to find that he had attacked Ron, or else slithered through the house after one of the others . . .

A few minutes after Ron began to snore, the door to their bedroom opened. Harry, who was still wearing his glasses, strained his eyes against the darkness of the room, as a small figured entered. Ginny Weasley came to stand at the end of his bed, her hair mussed and thrown over her shoulder. She was still wearing Bill's too-large christmas sweater over her long night gown.

"What's wrong, Gin?" Harry asked, scrubbing a hand over his mouth, as if trying to wipe away the exhaustion.

Ginny was shifting uncomfortably back and forth, her eyes fixed on her feet. She let out a long exhale before looking up at him, "I - I didn't want to be alone," Ginny told him timidly. She must have felt embarrassed because she continued to ramble, "Without Hermione here - it's just empty ...Forget it," she muttered, seeming to think better of her actions. "I'm sorry. Never mind..."

Harry felt something in him crumbling, and he reached out and grabbed Ginny's wrist, pulling her into his bed. She came willingly. Harry opened his arms to her, and she crawled next him, resting her head against his chest. He held her while she slept, and for those few hours as the house slept on, Harry felt himself slowly relaxing for the first time since he'd arrived at No. 12 Grimmauld Place.

* * *

But the sense of relaxation was fleeting. Later that day the entire family along with some members of the Order of the Phoenix went to see Arthur in St. Mungo's. Although he was doing much better, however it was hard not to notice that the bites on his arms would not stop bleeding. After the family had visited, all of the kids were kicked out in order for 'Order business' to be discussed. Luckily Harry, Ron, Fred and George were able to use extendable ears to listen in on.

It was Moody's comment that Harry was probably being possessed by Voldemort, that had all the Weasley boy's looking at Harry with a sudden sense of fear.

* * *

Harry was beside himself. Was that why Dumbledore hadn't looked him in the eye? Because he thought he was being possessed by Voldemort? After returning back to Grimmauld Place, he spent the next few hours alone in the room he shared with Ron, careening over the information he'd just heard. The few times he did run into one of the Weasley's they seemed to be looking away, with short and hurried responses.

Even they were scared of him. Well, if he was a danger to others then he certainly didn't need to spoil their Christmas. Just as Harry decided to pack his trunk and endure a holiday with the Dursley's, he received a message from Dumbledore to stay where he was, in the form of Nigellus Phineas, a former headmaster of Hogwarts who split his time between portraits in Hogwarts and No. 12 Grimmauld Place. At this warning Harry felt outraged, and thoroughly alone.

Dumbledore had been almost completely absent since the beginning of term. Harry needed answers. He needed guidance, and his Headmaster was sending him messages through portraits! Throwing his hastily packed trunk back across the room, Harry hid himself away in Buckbeak's room, hoping that everyone would just leave him alone.

Around six o'clock in the evening the doorbell rang and Mrs Black started screaming again. Assuming that Mundungus or some other Order member had come to call, Harry merely settled himself more comfortably against the wall of Buckbeak's room where he was hiding, trying to ignore how hungry he felt as he fed dead rats to the Hippogriff. It came as a slight shock when somebody hammered hard on the door a few minutes later.

'I know you're in there,' said Hermione's voice. 'Will you please come out? I want to talk to you."

''What are you doing here?' Harry asked her, pulling open the door as Buckbeak resumed his scratching at the straw-strewn floor for any fragments of rat he may have dropped.

"I came on the Knight Bus," said Hermione airily, turning and leading Harry down the hallway. "let's go to your bedroom, Ron's mum has lit a fire in there and she's sent up sandwiches." Harry followed her back to the second floor. When he entered the bedroom, he was rather surprised to see both Ron and Ginny waiting for them, sitting on Ron's bed.

"Dumbledore told me what had happened first thing this morning," she continued, "but I had to wait for term to end officially before setting off. Umbridge is already livid that you lot disappeared right under her nose, even though Dumbledore told her Mr Weasley was in St Mungo's and he'd given you all permission to visit. So . . ."

She sat down next to Ginny, and the two girls and Ron all looked up at Harry. He felt as if he'd just walked into a trap.

"How're you feeling?" asked Hermione.

'Fine,' said Harry stiffly.

"Oh, don't lie, Harry," she said impatiently. "Ron and Ginny say you've been hiding from everyone since you got back from St Mungo's."

"They do, do they?" said Harry, glaring at Ron and Ginny. Ron looked down at his feet but Ginny seemed quite unabashed.

"Well, you have!" Ginny said. "And you won't look at any of us!"

"It's you lot who won't look at me!" argued Harry angrily.

"Maybe you're taking it in turns to look, and keep missing each other," suggested Hermione, the corners of her mouth twitching.

"Very funny," snapped Harry, turning away to stare out the dark window.

"Oh, stop feeling all misunderstood," said Hermione sharply. "Look, the others have told me what you overheard last night on the Extendable Ears - "

"Yeah?" growled Harry, his hands deep in his pockets as he watched the snow now falling thickly outside through his window. "All been talking about me, have you? Well, I'm getting used to it."

"We wanted to talk _to _you, Harry," said Ginny, "but as you've been hiding ever since we got back - "

"I didn't want anyone to talk to me," said Harry, who was feeling more and more nettled.

"Well, that was a bit stupid of you," said Ginny angrily, rising from her spot on the bed, "seeing as you don't know anyone but me who's been possessed by You-Know-Who, and I can tell you how it feels."

Harry remained quite still as the impact of these words hit him. Then he wheeled round. "I forgot," he said.

She looked back at him as if he'd slapped her. "Lucky you," said Ginny coolly, her eyebrows raised in shock.

"I'm sorry," Harry said tightly, trying to put as much meaning as he could into those words. "So . . . so, do you think I'm being possessed, then?' His fear of being at fault, over riding his guilt.

'Well, can you remember everything you've been doing?" Ginny asked sharply. "Are there big blank periods where you don't know what you've been up to?"

Harry racked his brains.

"No," he answered.

"Then You-Know-Who hasn't ever possessed you," said Ginny simply, and before he could thank her, she left the room.

Harry, sat on the bed, hardly daring believe her, yet his heart was lightening almost in spite of himself. He wanted to go after her, but Hermione and Ron were watching him closely.

"That dream," Harry started, trying to bring their attention back to him. "I had about your dad and the snake, though - "

"Harry, you've had these dreams before," Hermione said. "You had flashes of what Voldemort was up to last year."

"This was different," said Harry, shaking his head. I was inside that snake. It was like I was the snake . . . what if Voldemort somehow transported me to London - ?"

"One day," said Hermione, sounding thoroughly exasperated, "you'll read Hogwarts: A History, and perhaps it will remind you that you can't Apparate or Disapparate inside Hogwarts. Even Voldemort couldn't just make you fly out of your dormitory, Harry."

"You didn't leave your bed, mate," said Ron. I saw you thrashing around in your sleep for at least a minute before we could wake you up."

Harry started pacing up and down the room again, thinking. What they were all saying was not only comforting, it made sense . . .

"Thanks," he told them, quickly. "I need to go talk to Sirius about this," he lied, exiting the bedroom, and heading straight for Ginny's.

* * *

"Ginny?" Harry asked, as he let himself into the bedroom she and Hermione were sharing. She had been sitting at the edge of her bed, and immediately stood as Harry entered.

"Ginny, I..." Harry started, grasping for the right thing to say. He stood awkwardly a few feet away, feeling the huge chasm between them.

She stood there for a moment, refusing to meet his gaze. He attempted another step toward her. This put her into motion and she immediately stalked past him towards the door. "Save it, Potter," she muttered, checking his shoulder as she reached for the handle behind him.

"Ginny, stop. I'm sorry," he told her, grabbing her arm and turning her around. Stopping her retreat.

"Let go of me," she warned, doing her best to pull herself free.

"No," Harry argued, pinning her back against the wall. "Look at me. I'm sorry," he told her again.

"You're sorry?!" she asked him incredulously, shoving him in the chest. Harry grabbed her arms, and held them still. "You _forgot_ about the horrible events that caused us to be forced together for the rest of our lives? It seems like you also _forgot_ that you're not the only person in the world!" she yelled derisively. "Why would you remember? It's not like you experience excruciating pain whenever someone you like touches you!"

"I know, it's not fair," Harry apologized again, pulling her closer; needing her closer. "I'd never do anything to hurt you," he whispered into her hair. Harry was surprised at the truth of his words. Without realizing it, Ginny had become very dear to him over the past few months. "I've just been so caught up in it all. I couldn't bear to think that this might have been my fault."

She pulled back to look at him. Her brown eyes were studying his face shrewdly, as if gauging Harry's sincerity. "Well, it wasn't," she refuted determinedly.

"I know that now," he agreed.

"Good. Then stop being so stupid," she told him matter-of-factly, pushing out of his arms, and heading back into the bedroom. Harry let her go and scrubbed a hard hand over his mouth.

"Okay," he conceded with a nod, and turned round to watch as she busied herself; rummaging around with items in her trunk. Harry stood watching her for a long moment, wondering where they stood.

"So, are we okay?" He asked, feeling altogether unsettled.

"Yeah," Ginny answered, still not looking up from her task. "We're fine."

"What're you looking for?" He asked, not quite ready to leave yet.

Her hands stilled for only a second when she answered, "A letter from Michael."

* * *

How could he have dreamed of returning to Privet Drive for Christmas? Sirius's delight at having the house full again, and especially at having Harry back, was infectious. He was no longer their sullen host of the summer; now he seemed determined that everyone should enjoy themselves as much, if not more than they would have done at Hogwarts, and he worked tirelessly in the run-up to Christmas Day, cleaning and decorating with their help, so that by the time they all went to bed on Christmas Eve the house was barely recognizable. The tarnished chandeliers were no longer hung with cobwebs but with garlands of holly and gold and silver streamers; magical snow glittered in heaps over the threadbare carpets; a great Christmas tree, obtained by Mundungus and decorated with live fairies, blocked Sirius's family tree from view, and even the stuffed elf-heads on the hall wall wore Father Christmas hats and beards.

It was only the subtle distance that Ginny had been keeping from him, since their conversation in her bedroom, that was able to dampen Harry's high spirits. He wanted to find a moment to talk with her again but she kept herself occupied, helping her mother in the kitchen or playing exploding snap with the twins.

Christmas day was a happy affair with a stack of presents and delicious food cooked by Mrs. Weasley. The lot of them went to St. Mungo's later that day to visit Mr. Weasley, and Harry considered the holiday nearly perfect when he finally got Ginny to laugh after meeting Professor Lockhart in the Permanent Spell Damage Department. Who was still true to form even offering autographs to them all as they greeted their former professor.

* * *

On his last night at No. 12 Grimmauld place, Harry found himself wide awake in the middle of the night, thoughts of returning to school running through his head, keeping him from sleep. After tossing and turning for a while, he gave up on the notion of rest and headed towards the kitchen. The old house was completely dark, as its inhabitants slept on. Harry pushed through the door to the kitchen and was surprised to find Sirius seated at the large kitchen table by himself, nursing a drink in his hand. He seemed in deep thought.

"Couldn't sleep?" Sirius asked, as Harry dropped into the seat opposite his godfather. He offered Harry a drink.

"Sure, a butterbeer sounds nice," Harry agreed.

"No. Tonight," Sirius sighed, "tonight, you can have the good stuff." Harry smiled, as Sirius poured a second glass of Firewhiskey and slid it across the table to him.

Harry glanced over towards the stairs leading to the bedroom, half expecting to see Mrs. Weasley shaking her finger at them, but it was empty. "Are you sure?" he asked nervously.

With a chuckle Sirius answered, "Yes, Harry. I've a healthy fear of Molly as well. Have a drink."

Harry took the glass of amber liquid, and swirled it, "Why?" he asked, eyeing his godfather over the cup.

"Because," Sirius sighed, a tone of melancholy coloring his words, "you're fifteen years old, and you've looked like you are carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders since you came here," he finished by taking a sip from his own glass.

With a somber nod, Harry took a small dreg of the drink; coughing as the liquid burned down his throat. "I see why it's called Firewhiskey," Harry choked out, but found the experience to not be altogether unpleasant.

"That first drink will get you. I remember my first taste of Firewhiskey. I was about your age. Your father and I snuck out to Hogsmeade," Sirius reminisced chuckling, and Harry felt a familiar ache in his chest. "You're too young to be carrying all this worry," Sirius said matter-of-factly. "Tonight we talk about the only two things a red-blooded fifteen year old male should be concerned about: witches and whiskey."

Harry found himself laughing, and taking another sip of his drink. The whiskey going down a bit smoother this time.

"First order of business: How's Cho?" Sirius asked, getting comfortable in his chair across the kitchen table. Harry told Sirius of their encounter on the train, her participation in DA meetings, that swooping sensation in his stomach he experienced every time Cho smiled at him. He went on to tell about their encounter in the Room of Requirements, and how she'd spoken of Cedric, and how she cried when she kissed him.

"Women..." was Sirius' reply, at the end of Harry's story.

Harry found himself agreeing and taking another drink.

"Well, do you fancy her, Harry?" Sirius asked.

Harry thought for a moment. "Yeah, I mean - I thought I did. I've liked her for so long. But..." he trailed off, unsure what he meant to say next, "...I mean she's really pretty."

"Harry," Sirius leveled, "There are a lot of pretty girls out there, but not all of them are for you. Do you know what I mean?"

It was quiet for a moment in the dark kitchen, as Harry mulled over his godfather's words.

"How are things between you and Ginny?" Sirius asked offhandedly after a while, pouring himself another drink, and topping off Harry's.

Harry let out a frustrated sigh at this. "Uh...I'm not sure."

The long haired man perked up. "Is it that Ravenclaw bastard of a boyfriend?" he offered.

Harry laughed answering, "No, although, your description is accurate. It's actually my fault this time." Sirius listened intently as Harry explained how he had hurt Ginny by saying he had forgotten that she had been possessed by Voldemort; forgetting that they were stuck in the Soulbond.

"Ooh!" Sirius winced. "Not your finest hour."

"I feel like a right git," Harry agreed. "She's been so great about things this last year. She's carrying around this huge burden, and she never complains about it. Merlin, she held Michael Corner's hand at the beginning of term, and it hurt so bad she could barely tie a knot to send a letter!"

"It seems like you care about her quite a bit," Sirius suggested, taking another sip of his drink.

"Of course I do. She's in this mess because of me. She'll be in danger if Voldemort finds out about the bond. The idea of her being hurt...I don't like it," Harry trailed off, taking a long drink from his glass.

"Very protective," Sirius commented, and Harry didn't notice the smile that was creeping onto his godfather's face.

"Yeah, she's like...she's like my little sister," Harry agreed running a hand through his hair.

"So, how long have you two been sleeping together?" Sirius asked nonchalantly, although his tone was starkly contrasted by the stern look on his face.

Harry was so taken aback by Sirius' comment he spit out the whiskey in his mouth. "What are you talking about?" Harry asked utterly confused, his face turning red at the accusation.

"The morning after you lot came here, when everyone went to catch up on sleep, I checked in on you. I figured you had a lot on your mind and wouldn't be able to sleep. To my surprise, I found you dozing away with Ginny Weasley asleep on your chest," Sirius finished.

"No, " Harry argued, "that wasn't what you think. That's never happened before, I swear. She came to our room upset. She didn't want to be alone. Ron was already asleep. I just wanted to comfort her. That's all. Nothing happened! You believe me, don't you?" Harry explained desperately. The notion was ludicrous! He would never take advantage of Ginny. They were friends. Nothing was happening, and Ginny was not that kind of girl. Harry felt a bubbling heat stirring in his gut.

With a nod Sirius answered, "I believe you, Harry. I had to ask. Just remember, you two are in a very delicate predicament. She's younger than you, and unless we can find a safe way to break the bond, she's...yours," Sirius told him soberly, "Be careful there."

Harry nodded, relieved his godfather believed him. "I just...can I tell you something?" He asked cautiously. A notion that had been inkling at him for a while, at the tip of his tongue.

"You can tell me anything," Sirius replied earnestly.

Harry nodded his understanding, and was somehow even more grateful to have Sirius in his life. With a sigh Harry said, "I like being around her."

"So do I."

"No, I mean I've noticed that when she's close to me, all the...tension leaves my body," Harry explained. "It's like her presence calms me down or something. I don't know what it is. I think it might be part of the soulbond."

"Could be," Sirius conjectured. They sat silently, the low kitchen lights having a lulling effect, as the clock chimed in the early hour of the morning.

"No matter what, I've mucked things up. She really doesn't want to be around me," Harry said with a yawn. "Do you think she'll ever forgive me?"

Sirius returned a sleepy smile, "I have a good feeling."

"Why's that?" Harry asked, resting back into his chair.

"Well, if history tells us anything, it's that pretty red heads can't stay mad at Potter men for too long."

* * *

**AN:** Do leave your thoughts below. I do my best to listen. A kiss is next.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN:** Hello everyone, I hope this chapter finds you in good spirits. I just wanted to take a moment to publicly thank my amazing/brilliant Beta: Nova81, who has spent many-a hour proofreading and bouncing ideas back and forth with me. All the excellence is hers and all the flaws are mine.

* * *

_'We are all mortals until the first kiss and the second glass of wine.' _

_- Eduardo Galeano_

* * *

"You'll be safe once you're in the grounds," said Tonks, casting a careful eye around at the deserted road. Lupin, who had also come to see the students off, smiled reassuringly at Harry.

Harry found it hard to muster a happy expression to return, as he Fred, George, Ron, Ginny and Hermione stood at the end of the road that led from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts, having just gotten off the Knight Bus. "Have a good term, OK?" Tonks offered, hugging the girls.

"Look after yourselves," said Lupin, shaking hands all round and reaching Harry last. "And listen . . ." he lowered his voice while the rest of them exchanged last-minute goodbyes with Tonks, "Harry, I know you don't like Snape, but he is a superb Occlumens and we all - Sirius included - want you to learn to protect yourself and Ginny, so work hard, all right?"

"Yeah, all right," said Harry heavily, looking up into Lupin's prematurely lined face. He would have given a stronger protest if Ginny weren't included in the danger that faced him. "See you, then."

Harry was dreading this notion in particular. Having had a visit from his least favorite professor, who brought news that they would be having weekly private Occlumens lessons, per Dumbledore's request. Nothing sounded less appealing.

The six of them struggled up the slippery drive towards the castle, dragging their trunks. Fred and George were whispering quietly at the front of their little pack, while Ron and Hermione argued on about her plight of knitting hats for the house elves. Harry, in his dejected mood, found himself lagging behind, walking next to Ginny.

They didn't speak the entire trudge back to the castle. Harry kept almost opening his mouth to say something like, "Ready for quidditch?" or, "How are classes going?" or most aptly, "I'm sorry for being such a selfish prat."

But none seemed right, so instead they huffed along quietly. Harry fighting the urge to reach out and take her hand that was swinging along at her side.

When they reached the Great Hall, they group found it full of newly returning students. Fred and George quickly said their goodbyes and headed over to Lee Jordan and Angelina Johnson, who were looking over Umbridge's latest posting. Ron and Hermione were in the throes of one of their usual rows, and Harry rolled his eyes, not in the mood to play middle man.

Turning back around, he saw Ginny watching him. A considering expression on her face. The moment she realized Harry's notice, the red head immediately averted her gaze and grabbed her trunk to move off.

With a frustrated sigh, Harry stepped into her path. Ginny halted, almost knocking into the boy in front of her.

"Excuse me," Ginny told him primly, still refusing to look him in the eye. She took a step to the right.

Harry mirrored her. She moved to the left, and Harry followed suit.

Ginny let out something close to a growl. "What? What do you want, Harry?" She asked, exasperated, dropping her trunk and looking up at him.

Harry looked down at her. When did Ginny Weasley become this frustrating? He just wanted to grab her narrow shoulders and shake her. He watched as her angry brown eyes teemed with annoyance, and her full pink lips pursed in tension. More than anything he just wanted to pull her into his arms, and hold her until she forgave him. "I don't like this, Ginny," He told her quietly.

"Harry," she warned, her eyes on her shoes.

He couldn't help it, he took a step closer. His hand coming up to tuck a rogue strand of her red hair behind her ear. "Ginny, I-"

"Weasley's back!" Came a whooping voice, and Michael Corner was bounding towards Ginny. The Ravenclaw boy quickly scooped her up by the waist, and swung her around. Harry watched as Ginny laughed and squealed in her boyfriend's arms.

"Michael, put me down!" Ginny demanded, laughing heartily. Michael, who was smiling brightly, obliged and set her to her feet, immediately pulling her into a hug. Harry's grip on his trunk tightened.

"Greetings, Potter," Michael told him happily. Harry did his best to fix his face, and nodded his greetings. "Thanks for getting her back here safely," he winked. Harry had to actively not roll his eyes.

"Sure," Harry appeased, his eyes on Ginny, who seemed to be doing everything she could not to look back at him.

Michael was oblivious to all of this, "Did you two stay out of trouble over the hol-"

But Michael's question was interrupted. "Hi, Harry," said a voice from over Harry's shoulder. He turned round and found Cho standing there.

"Oh," said Harry as his stomach leapt uncomfortably. "Hi."

"We'll see you two later," said Ginny coolly. Harry looked over his shoulder to see the familiar icy look on her face that he'd grown accustomed to since Christmas, and she tucked herself more closely under Michael's arm. Harry narrowed his eyes, about to say something, when Cho cleared her throat.

"Had a good Christmas?" asked Cho.

"Yeah, not bad," said Harry, continuing to eye the couple as they joined the rest of the crowd.

"Mine was pretty quiet," said Cho. Harry brought his attention back to her and for some reason, she was looking rather embarrassed. "Erm . . . there's another Hogsmeade trip next month, did you see the notice?"

"What? Oh, no, I haven't checked the noticeboard since I got back."

"Yes, it's on Valentines Day . . ."

"Right," said Harry, wondering why she was telling him this. "Well, I suppose you want to - ?"

"Only if you do," she said eagerly.

Harry stared. He had been about to say, "I suppose you want to know when the next DA meeting is?" but her response did not seem to fit.

"I - er -" he said.

"Oh, it's OK if you don't," she said, looking mortified. "Don't worry. I - I'll see you around."

She walked away. Harry stood staring after her, his brain working frantically. Then something clunked into place. A thought he'd been mulling over, since he'd talked to Hermione after their kiss. He really ought to give things a try.

"Cho! Hey - CHO!"

He ran after her, abandoning his trunk, and catching her halfway up the marble staircase.

"Er - d'you want to come into Hogsmeade with me on Valentine's Day?"

"Oooh, yes!" she said, blushing crimson and beaming at him.

"Right . . . well . . . that's settled then," said Harry, and feeling that the day was not going to be a complete loss after all, he strolled back to the Gryffindor common room with a satisfied smile on his face.

* * *

A few days after his arrival brought Harry to his private lesson with Professor Snape. After dinner he bid Ron and Hermione goodbye and set out for the dungeons. He paused outside the door when he reached it, wishing he were almost anywhere else, then, taking a deep breath, he knocked and entered.

The shadowy room was lined with shelves bearing hundreds of glass jars in which slimy bits of animals and plants were suspended in variously coloured potions. In one corner stood the cupboard full of ingredients that Snape had once accused Harry - not without reason - of robbing. Harry's attention was drawn towards the desk, however, where a shallow stone basin engraved with runes and symbols lay in a pool of candlelight. Harry recognised it at once - it was Dumbledore's Pensieve. Wondering what on earth it was doing there, he jumped when Snape's cold voice came out of the shadows.

"Shut the door behind you, Potter."

Harry did as he was told, with the horrible feeling that he was imprisoning himself. When he turned back into the room, Snape had moved into the light and was pointing silently at the chair opposite his desk. Harry sat down and so did Snape, his cold black eyes fixed unblinkingly upon Harry, dislike etched in every line of his face.

"Well, Potter, you know why you are here," he said. "The Headmaster has asked me to teach you Occlumency. I can only hope that you prove more adept at it than at Potions."

"And why does Professor Dumbledore think I need it, sir?" said Harry looking directly into Snape's eyes and wondering whether Snape would answer.

Snape looked back at him for a moment and then said contemptuously, "Surely even you could have worked that out by now, Potter? The Dark Lord is highly skilled at Legilimency - "

"What's that? Sir?"

"It is the ability to extract feelings and memories from another person's mind - "

"He can read minds?" said Harry quickly, his worst fears confirmed.

"Only Muggles talk of "mind-reading". The mind is not a book, to be opened at will and examined at leisure. Thoughts are not etched on the inside of skulls, to be perused by any invader, the mind is a complex and many-layered thing, Potter - or at least, most minds are." He smirked. "It is true, however, that those who have mastered Legilimency are able, under certain conditions, to delve into the minds of their victims and to interpret their findings correctly. The Dark Lord, for instance, almost always knows when somebody is lying to him. Only those skilled at Occlumency are able to shut down those feelings and memories that contradict the lie, and so can utter falsehoods in his presence without detection."

Harry did his best to follow what Snape was telling him. It seemed as if Voldemort might be able to possess Harry.

Snape ordered him to stand with his wand.

"I am about to attempt to break into your mind," said Snape softly. "We are going to see how well you resist. I have been told that you have already shown aptitude at resisting the Imperius Curse. You will find that similar powers are needed for this . . . brace yourself, now. Legilimens!"

Snape had struck before Harry was ready, before he had even begun to summon any force of resistance. The office swam in front of his eyes and vanished; image after image was racing through his mind like a flickering film, so vivid it blinded him to his surroundings.

He was five, watching Dudley riding a new red bicycle, and his heart was bursting with jealousy . . . he was nine, and Ripper the bulldog was chasing him up a tree and the Dursleys were laughing below on the lawn . . . he was sitting under the Sorting Hat, and it was telling him he would do well in Slytherin . . . Hermione was lying in the hospital wing, her face covered with thick black hair . . . a hundred Dementors were closing in on him beside the dark lake . . . Ginny Weasley, frightened and fragile crawling into bed next to him . . .

'No,' said a voice inside Harry's head, as the memory of Ginny drew nearer, 'you're not watching that, you're not watching it, it's private - '

He felt a sharp pain in his knee. Snape's office had come back into view and he realised that he had fallen to the floor; one of his knees had collided painfully with the leg of Snape's desk. He looked up at Snape, who had lowered his wand and was rubbing his wrist. There was an angry weal there, like a scorch mark.

"Did you mean to produce a Stinging Hex?" asked Snape coolly.

"No," said Harry bitterly, getting up from the floor.

"I thought not," said Snape, watching him closely. "You let me get in too far. You lost control."

"Did you see everything I saw?" Harry asked, unsure whether he wanted to hear the answer.

"Flashes of it," said Snape, his lip curling. "To whom did the dog belong?"

"My Aunt Marge," Harry muttered, hating Snape.

"Well, for a first attempt that was not as poor as it might have been," said Snape, raising his wand once more. "You managed to stop me eventually, though you wasted time and energy shouting. You must remain focused. Repel me with your brain and you will not need to resort to your wand."

"I'm trying," said Harry angrily, "but you're not telling me how!"

"Clear your mind, Potter," said Snape's cold voice. "Let go of all emotion . . ."

But Harry's anger at Snape continued to pound through his veins like venom. Let go of his anger? He could as easily detach his legs . . .

"You're not doing it, Potter . . . you will need more discipline than this . . . focus, now . . ."

Harry tried to empty his mind, tried not to think, or remember, or feel . . .

"Let's go again . . . on the count of three . . . one - two - three - 'Legilimens!"

A great black dragon was rearing in front of him . . . his father and mother were waving at him out of an enchanted mirror . . . Ginny Weasley lying almost lifeless on the floor of the Chamber of Secrets. . .

"NOOOOOOO!"

Harry was on his knees again, his face buried in his hands, his brain aching as though someone had been trying to pull it from his skull.

Snape accused Harry of not trying, demanding that Harry control his emotions. Harry, tired, frustrated, and fed up with being forced to relive some of the worst moments of his life with Snape, argued that he was trying. They stared at each other, loathing seeping from both professor and student.

The potion's master demanded again that Harry empty his mind.

"Control your anger, discipline your mind! We shall try again! Get ready, now! Legilimens!"

He was watching Uncle Vernon hammering the letterbox shut . . . a hundred Dementors were drifting across the lake in the grounds towards him . . . he was running along a windowless passage with Mr Weasley . . . they were drawing nearer to the plain black door at the end of the corridor . . . Harry expected to go through it . . . but Mr Weasley led him off to the left, down a flight of stone steps . . .

"I KNOW! I KNOW!"

He was on all fours again on Snape's office floor, his scar was prickling unpleasantly, but the voice that had just issued from his mouth was triumphant. He pushed himself up again to find Snape staring at him, his wand raised. It looked as though, this time, Snape had lifted the spell before Harry had even tried to fight back.

"I saw - I remembered," Harry panted. "I've just realised . . ."

He had been dreaming about a windowless corridor ending in a locked door for months, without once realising that it was a real place. Now, seeing the memory again, he knew that all along he had been dreaming about the corridor down which he had run with Mr Weasley on the twelfth of August as they hurried to the courtrooms in the Ministry; it was the corridor leading to the Department of Mysteries and Mr Weasley had been there the night that he had been attacked by Voldemort's snake.

He looked up at Snape.

"What's in the Department of Mysteries?"

They glared at each other. Harry's scar seared again, but he did not care. Snape looked agitated; but when he spoke again he sounded as though he was trying to appear cool and unconcerned.

"There are many things in the Department of Mysteries, Potter, few of which you would understand and none of which concern you. Do I make myself plain?"

Harry was dismissed from practise immediately, tasked to practise. He left without another word, closing the door carefully behind him, his scar still throbbing painfully.

* * *

Harry found Ron and Hermione in the library, where they were working on Umbridge's most recent ream of homework. Other students, nearly all of them fifth-years, sat at lamp-lit tables nearby, noses close to books, quills scratching feverishly, while the sky outside the mullioned windows grew steadily blacker. The only other sound was the slight squeaking of one of Madam Pince's shoes, as the librarian prowled the aisles menacingly, breathing down the necks of those touching her precious books.

Harry felt shivery; his scar was still aching, he felt almost feverish.

When he sat down opposite Ron and Hermione, he caught sight of himself in the window opposite; he was very white and his scar seemed to be showing up more clearly than usual.

"How did it go?" Hermione whispered, and then, looking concerned. "Are you alright, Harry?"

Ignoring his throbbing head, Harry explained how he'd figured out that the long corridor in his dreams was in fact the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry of Magic. They discussed how this made sense, seeing as Sturgis Podmore, who had been found dead at the Ministry, must have been guarding whatever Voldemort was looking for.

Ron asked Harry, once again if he was alright. For Harry had just run both his hands hard over his forehead as though trying to iron it.

"Yeah . . . fine . . ." he said, lowering his hands, which were trembling. "I just feel a bit . . . I don't like Occlumency much."

"I expect anyone would feel snaky if they'd had their mind attacked over and over again," said Hermione sympathetically. "Look, let's get back to the common room, we'll be a bit more comfortable there."

But the common room was packed and full of shrieks of laughter and excitement; Fred and George were demonstrating their latest bit of joke shop merchandise.

"Headless Hats!" shouted George, as Fred waved a pointed hat decorated with a fluffy pink feather at the watching students. "Two Galleons each, watch Fred, now!"

Fred swept the hat on to his head, beaming. For a second he merely looked rather stupid; then both hat and head vanished.

Several girls screamed, but everyone else was roaring with laughter.

"And off again!" shouted George, and Fred's hand groped for a moment in what seemed to be thin air over his shoulder; then his head reappeared as he swept the pink-feathered hat from it.

Ron and Hermione joined the throng of students who were ogling this rather impressive bit of magic, but Harry found the squeals of laughter to cause the sensation of lightning striking his forehead. Feeling even worse than before he did his best to manage his way through the crowd.

He walked across the common room. He had to dodge George, who tried to put a Headless Hat on him, and headed in the direction of the peace and cool of the stone staircase to the boys' dormitories. He was feeling sick again, just as he had the night he had the vision of the snake, but thought that if he could just lie down for a while he would be all right.

"Sorry!" Came a familiar voice, as a small figure collided with his chest.

"No, I'm not looking where I'm going," he apologized towards the sound. He'd been staring at the floor while he walked, doing his best to avoid the lights that were causing him to wince, despite their low glow.

"Oh," said Ginny Weasley, sounding uncomfortable. Harry finally looked up, wincing against the pain. He'd rarely seen her over the past few days, since their odd goodbye outside the Great Hall. Harry knew she was avoiding him, like she'd been doing since his blunder over Christmas. As he watched her now, her discomfort of being around him was clear, and she busied herself by resetting the satchel that hung over her shoulder.

"Sorry," he repeated tensely, pinching the bridge of his nose. Harry really was not in the mood for her cold shoulder. The distance she'd placed between them was really starting to wear on him.

He was surprised when her toned immediately softened, "Harry, what's wrong?" she asked, her brown eyes full of concern as she took a good look at him. He was even more surprised when she reached up and gently swept some of his dark hair away from his brow and laid her hand against his forehead, checking for a temperature. It was such a comforting gesture, one he rarely experienced as a child, that Harry found himself leaning into her touch. "You look awful."

"Thanks," he said flatly, as he stood there, her presence alone seeming to dull the ache. "I'm just heading upstairs," he told her, as she removed her hand. He went to take a step when he found himself a little dizzy, and halted mid stride as his head seemed to float.

"Woah, Harry!" Ginny gasped, and immediately wrapped an arm around his waist to steady him.

"I'm fine," Harry appeased, not even convincing himself. Ginny just rolled her eyes at him, and draped his arm around her shoulder.

"Maybe you should go to the hospital wing?" She told him seriously.

Harry felt his body relaxing against her. "No, I just need to sleep. My head is killing me," he explained.

Ginny considered this idea for a moment. "Alright," she conceded skeptically, "just promise you'll let Ron know if you start feeling any worse." After Harry agreed, there was another roar of squeals, laughter and applause as George and Fred made Crookshanks' whole body disappear save his tail.

Harry winced once more, and buried his face into her shoulder to block out the noise. "Come on, I'll get you to your room," she sighed, and Harry noticed her eyes flash down to the watch on her wrist.

As she helped him up the stairs, Harry found himself telling her about the Occlumency lessons. (Although leaving out the parts where Snape had entered into some of their more intimate moments.) Ginny listened quietly, only speaking to call Snape, "a total prat."

As they reached the door to his dormitory, Harry was feeling a bit better, having left the loud noise and the bright lights of the common room behind. Ginny let him go and he stood at his door for a moment, realizing this was the first time he'd told her one of his secrets. For a moment he regretted it, until he saw the look on her face, calm and unwavering.

"Thanks," he said lingering at the door, not wanting to go into his room just yet.

"Yeah, of course," she answered with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Get some rest."

Harry suddenly noticed what Ginny was wearing. Her long red hair was tied in two low pony tails on either side of her head, each fixed with a black ribbon. She had on a black jumper, and fitted black trousers. She looked. . . adorable.

"Where were you going?" Harry asked the red-head curiously. The watch on her wrist read nine thirty. Curfew was only a half an hour away.

Ginny, who had turned to head back down the stairs, stopped and turned back, the guarded look Harry'd become so used to back on her face. "If you must know, I'm meeting Michael and some Ravenclaws on the seventh floor for a game of hide-n-seek."

Harry narrowed his eyes at her. "It's almost curfew," he reminded her.

"Yep," she agreed flatly, before heading for the stairs.

When did Ginny Weasley get this frustrating? "Ginny," he warned, reaching out and grabbing her hand.

With a huff, she stopped. Harry could feel the tension radiating off of her, but he didn't care. She turned back, her eyes immediately falling on their joined hands. With a steadying breath she brought her gaze up to his. "Stop," she warned, one of her red eyebrows arched in defiance.

Harry suddenly felt that overwhelming urge to shake some sense into her again. Why was she being so reckless? "There is no way I'm going to let you get a detention with Umbridge," he told her sternly.

If possible Ginny's eyebrow arched even higher. "Well, Harry," Ginny started, her tone icy and tense, "There is no way I'm going to let you tell me what to do."

He considered it for a moment. With a long sigh he stepped back, and dropped her hand. "Will you just wait here for a moment?" Harry asked hopefully.

Although she didn't look too pleased by the idea, she begrudgingly agreed. Harry turned and ran into his room. Quickly rummaging around in his trunk, he found what he was looking for and headed back into the corridor, where Ginny was waiting.

"Here," he told her, offering the seemingly translucent piece of material.

"What is it?" she asked him curiously, her former anger dissipating.

Harry grinned. "It's an invisibility cloak." Ginny's eyes widened in amazement. "It was my father's," he explained, answering her unasked question. "Dumbledore gave it to me back in first year."

Ginny looked at him incredulously for a moment, the cloak hanging limply in her hands. She opened her mouth a few times to speak, only to close it again. She looked absolutely shocked. Finally she spoke, and Harry found himself chuckling when her first comment was, "But, I can't. It's too -

Harry, sensing her reluctance, with a grin took the material from her hand, and stuffed it into the satchel hanging at her hip.

"Tell no one, and keep yourself out of detention," he bargained.

She nodded her agreement. "I'll get this back to you tomorrow," she promised, and with one more curious glance at him, she turned and headed down back to the common room.

Harry stood in the corridor a moment longer, watching her leave. Every step that took her farther from him seemed to increase the pressure in his head again. He opened the door of his dormitory and was one step inside it when he experienced pain so severe he thought that someone must have sliced into the top of his head. He did not know where he was, whether he was standing or lying down, he did not even know his own name.

Maniacal laughter was ringing in his ears . . . he was happier than he had been in a very long time . . . jubilant, ecstatic, triumphant . . . a wonderful, wonderful thing had happened . . .

"Harry? HARRY!"

Someone had hit him around the face. The insane laughter was punctuated with a cry of pain. The happiness was draining out of him, but the laughter continued . . .

He opened his eyes and, as he did so, he became aware that the wild laughter was coming out of his own mouth. The moment he realised this, it died away; Harry lay panting on the floor, staring up at the ceiling, the scar on his forehead throbbing horribly. Ron was bending over him, looking very worried.

"What happened?" he said.

"I . . . dunno . . ." Harry gasped, sitting up again. "He's really happy . . . really happy . . ."

"You-Know-Who is?"

"Something good's happened," mumbled Harry. He was shaking as badly as he had done after seeing the snake attack Mr. Weasley and felt very sick. "Something he's been hoping for."

The words came, just as they had back in the Gryffindor changing room, as though a stranger was speaking them through Harry's mouth, yet he knew they were true. He took deep breaths, willing himself not to vomit all over Ron. He was very glad that Dean and Seamus were not here to watch this time.

"Hermione told me to come and check on you," said Ron in a low voice, helping Harry to his feet. "She says your defences will be low at the moment, after Snape's been fiddling around with your mind . . . still, I suppose it'll help in the long run, won't it?" He looked doubtfully at Harry as he helped him towards his bed. Harry nodded without any conviction and slumped back on his pillows, aching all over from having fallen to the floor so often that evening, his scar still prickling painfully.

He could not help feeling that his first foray into Occlumency had weakened his mind's resistance rather than strengthening it, and he wondered, with a feeling of great trepidation, what had happened to make Lord Voldemort the happiest he had been in fourteen years.

* * *

Harry, Ron and Hermione scoured the Daily Prophet the next morning at lunch searching for any clue that would reveal why Voldemort would be so pleased. There was only one article of note.

TRAGIC DEMISE OF MINISTRY OF MAGIC WORKER

St Mungo's Hospital promised a full inquiry last night after Ministry of Magic worker Broderich Bode, 49, was discovered dead in his bed, strangled by a pot plant. Healers called to the scene were unable to revive Mr Bode, who had been injured in a workplace accident some weeks prior to his death.

Healer Miriam Strout, who was in charge of Mr Bodes ward at the time of the incident, has been suspended on full pay and was unavailable for comment yesterday, but a spokeswizard for the hospital said in a statement:

"St Mungo's deeply regrets the death of Mr Bode, whose health was improving steadily prior to this tragic accident. We have strict guidelines on the decorations permitted on our wards but it appears that Healer Strout, busy over the Christmas period, overlooked the dangers of the plant on Mr Bode's bedside table. As his speech and mobility improved, Healer Strout encouraged Mr Bode to look after the plant himself, unaware that it was not an innocent Flitterbloom, but a cutting of Devil's Snare which, when touched by the convalescent Mr Bode, throttled him instantly."

Ron and Harry conjectured over why they found the name so familiar. Hermione figured it out, that they had seen him when they ran into Professor Lockhart at St. Mungo's over Christmas holidays. They were even there when the deadly plant was delivered. It wasn't until Harry remembered that he'd actually met Bode when he'd been with Mr. Weasley at the Ministry over the summer for his trial that they pieced together that Bode was in fact an Unspeakable. An Unspeakable who was guarding something in the Department of Mysteries.

This news, on top of finding out that Hagrid had been put on probation from teaching Care of Magical Creatures, the new Educational decree no. 26 that forbade teachers from speaking of anything outside their subject matter during class, frustratingly draining Occlumency lessons with Snape, and Ginny's continued cold shoulder, made Harry wished he would have stayed back at Grimmauld Place with Sirius.

* * *

To Harry's surprise it was Ginny who sought him out in the corridor after classes a few days later. He was chatting with Ernie McMillan and Luna Lovegood about when the next DA meeting would take place. Ron and Hermione had left immediately after Ancient Runes for a prefect meeting until dinner.

"Harry?" Ginny asked him.

"Yeah, Gin?" he replied, turning to the short red haired girl.

She seemed a little distracted when she answered," Um, McGonagall wants to see you." She handed him a folded piece of parchment.

Curiously, Harry opened the note, and immediately recognized Ginny's handwriting.

_We need to talk. Meet me in the abandoned classroom on the third floor in ten minutes._

_- Ginny_

Harry looked up at Ginny, questioningly. Ginny was giving him a meaningful look. He nodded, answering, "Yeah, I'll head to her office now."

She seemed relieved by his answer, and smiled before excusing herself. Harry watched her as she headed in the opposite direction of the classroom in question.

Harry leaned against the unused teacher's desk at the front of the abandoned classroom, his foot tapping anxiously against the wood floor. His mind rolled over and over about what Ginny could possibly want to talk about. Was she in trouble? Were they finally going to have a proper row over about what had happened over Christmas holiday? Harry pushed off the desk and started to pace.

He was mid stride when the wooden door creaked open. Harry stopped and watched as Ginny pushed into the old classroom. Other than the nervous look on her face, she didn't appear to be in any sort of distress. Without a word, he marched over to her and grabbed her right hand, pulling it in front of his eyes to look for proof of detentions served.

"Harry what are you doing?" she asked him confusedly.

Harry let out a sigh of relief when her hand appeared just as it always had. "I thought you had gotten a detention," he admitted heavily. "What's wrong? Are you hurt?" he demanded immediately, his eyes looking her over, an unsettling feeling in his gut.

The redheaded girl looked at him as if he'd lost his mind, an amused grin coming to her soft features.

"Harry, I'm fine," she assured him, and began rummaging into her bag, only to pull out the invisibility cloak. "I wanted to return this privately," she explained, handing it to him.

Harry felt his whole body deflate in relief. "Oh," he sighed. "Merlin, you made me think something awful had happened," he explained walking over to his bag that he'd deposited onto a rogue desk, and stuffing the cloak into it.

"Well," came Ginny's voice from over his shoulder, a bit smaller this time. "There is one more thing I wanted to talk to you about."

"What's that?" Harry inquired, as he finished fastening his bag closed.

"Uh, well. . . Merlin, this is embarrassing. . . " she muttered, and Harry found himself chuckling at her sudden unease. She was rarely nervous around him anymore. He turned back toward her and sat himself down on a desk, and watched as her cheeks turned a charming shade of pink.

"What is it, Gin?" he prompted amusedly, since she had decidedly stopped talking. Harry found her nervousness rather endearing.

Running a shaky hand through her long hair, she finally answered, "Michael tried to kiss me."

Harry had the sudden sensation as if someone had just punched him in the gut. "I'll hex him," he offered instantly. Getting up and heading straight for the door.

"What?" Ginny asked incredulously, nervousness forgotten. "No! No, that's not it at all," she argued, racing over and throwing herself in front of the door just as he reached for the handle.

"I'll just go have a word with him," Harry told her, pulling on door. A word like _stupefy_.

"Harry, will you just listen to me for one minute!" she argued, trying her best to push him away from the exit.

Her simple request broke through the current red he was seeing. He stilled for a moment, his hand still at the handle, doing his utmost to keep his temper in check. With a stifled exhale, Harry asked tightly, "When did this happen?"

Ginny eyed his grip on the handle warily as she answered. "A few nights ago, when we were playing hide-n-seek," she admitted. Her cheeks becoming even pinker.

"Did he try anything else?" he asked, his sense of possession of the girl in front of him in overdrive.

Ginny's eyebrows hit her hairline at this question. "What?! No! He just leaned in for a kiss, and that's it. I faked a sneeze and he didn't try again," she spluttered desperately.

"Okay, I'll go take care of this," He told her, pulling on the door again and trying to move Ginny out of the way. Yes, he and Michael would have a nice long chat. . . with their wands.

But Ginny fought him all the while. "Harry, stop!" she told him as they struggled for the door handle. "Harry, I wanted him to!"

Harry froze at her words. The only sound in the room was their labored breathing from their previous scuffle. He immediately let go of the handle and stepped back. Ginny had _wanted_ to kiss Michael. Harry thought it really shouldn't have hit him so oddly.

He began to pace.

"Harry?" Ginny asked concernedly, still leaning back against the closed door.

Harry's mind was in overdrive. What was she thinking? Arguments against Ginny's request flew through his head. She didn't need to be going around kissing boys. She was only fourteen. How well did she know this Michael Corner any way? Well, they'd met over a year ago, and they'd been dating for seven months... That's a lot longer than he and Cho had been...something. Better go with the latter.

He stopped pacing to look at her, "You're too young."

"Excuse me?" Ginny said, and Harry almost recoiled, as her voice somehow had an eerie Mrs. Weasley-like quality to it.

Harry could tell immediately that he'd chosen the wrong angle to attack this from. Running a frustrated hand through his hair, he tried a different tactic. "How do you know you're ready?" He asked.

Ginny only rolled her eyes at this. "Were you ready to kiss Cho?" she reasoned, and Harry's jaw flexed at the truth of her words. The idea of being 'ready' for his first kiss had never come to mind. He simply liked Cho, and when she'd kissed him he'd kissed her back, with little premeditation. He also made a mental note to have a word with Hermione about keeping personal details about his life to herself.

Ginny took a calming breath before continuing, "Look, I know this is awkward, and I know you really fancy Cho. So, please do not misread me," she told him firmly. "I don't know if I'm ready to kiss Michael, but when I am, I don't want to be bracing myself for excruciating pain the whole time."

Harry stood there for a moment looking at her. She looked so strong yet somehow still fragile as the becoming pink of her cheeks seemed to make her brown eyes all the brighter. No wonder Michael Corner had tried to kiss her.

She let out an exasperated sigh when Harry remained quiet. "I'm not here to ask your permission. I'm here for your help," she told him angrily.

The broken clock on the wall ticked on at an irregular pace, as Harry rapidly assessed what she was asking him. She needed his help. Merlin, why did his life have to be this complicated? Kiss Ginny Weasley? Ron's baby sister. She was like a little sister to him as well. Although, she wasn't quite so little any more, and boys kept noticing. The idea made his fists clench.

But she was right. She didn't need his permission. They'd made a deal at the Yule Ball. They were going to live their lives as normally as possible, and this was an uncomfortable complication of that. She deserved the freedoms that he experienced.

Bloody hell.

"Okay," he groaned, rubbing the back of his neck uneasily.

Ginny seemed completely shocked by his answer. "Really?" she squeaked out, sounding half hopeful, half terrified. The sudden waver in her voice doing nothing to reduce the feeling in Harry's gut that he was a complete prat.

Harry walked over to stand right in front of her. She suddenly seemed very small next to him in this moment. She looked up at him, her neck craning to meet his gaze. "Are you ready?" Harry asked, not quite believing what was about to take place. She nodded bravely, but her quickened breathing gave away her nerves.

Praying to Merlin that this would not land him a sound beating from all six Weasley brothers, Harry closed his eyes and quickly pecked his lips against hers. It was over in the blink of an eye. He pulled away immediately, glad to be done with it, and found himself not as upset at the notion of Ginny and Michael doing that. However, Ginny was not quite so pleased.

"Are you kidding me?" she asked him with a hard shove to his shoulder and a furious expression on her face.

"What?" Harry bristled, rubbing the spot where she'd hit him.

"You really think that Michael is going to kiss me like that?" she asked him angrily, giving him another hard shove. "I know I'm not as pretty as Cho Chang, but do you really think no bloke will like me?" she roared at him, and Harry found himself growing irritated that she didn't realize how many boys actually fancied her, and thought her fit. Harry's temper spiked at the thought. She could be so blind. Ginny continued her tirade, "It's good to know I'll be safe if my Aunt Muriel comes to visit, but if Michael tries to kiss me - "

Harry cut her off. He really didn't want to hear any more about her and Michael Corner snogging. He took her face in his hands, and pulled her lips to his. She let out a tiny gasp, and Harry found it odd how much he liked the noise. Her lips were soft and plump against Harry's; not at all like his first kiss. Which was wet and a bit salty. Rather, he thought Ginny smelled like the flowers that grew wild outside the Burrow, with something akin to vanilla and cinnamon along with it. Harry almost smiled as the shock of the kiss seem to wear off and she began to respond to him naturally, by bringing her small hands up to his shoulders to steady herself, and turning her head slightly to find a better angle.

He was about to pull away when a light noise, something like a sigh, escaped from Ginny's throat, and instead of letting her go, he was taking a step closer, until she was backed all the way against the door. His hands that were holding her face slipped into her red silky hair, and he let his lips slide languidly over hers. The grip she had on his shoulders tightened. Harry felt like growling.

Then, a sudden overwhelming thought came crashing into the forefront of his mind; he wanted to taste her. He wanted to open her mouth and use his tongue to see if she tasted like vanilla and cinnamon. Harry was so overcome with this urge that he found his lips starting to do just that.

'What are you doing!' a voice in his head screamed at him. Harry was back to his senses before things went any further, and using a surprising amount of willpower he slowly pulled his lips off of hers. He felt dizzy, as if he'd just finished a few glasses of firewhiskey. His breathing was harsh and deep. He opened his eyes, to find Ginny's still closed, her pouting lips pink and swollen. She was still on her tip toes, her small hands still grasped his shoulders.

He could feel his eyes going dark, and he started to lean back down before shaking himself out of it.

"That should cover you," Harry told her, a bit breathier than he'd meant to.

Her brown eyes opened slowly. Her palms letting go of his shoulders to fall limply to her sides. Her hands brushed down his chest as the fell, and Harry felt himself almost shiver at the contact. What was going on?

Ginny looked to be a bit dazed as well. "Yeah," she agreed airily, dropping back down on her heels, and Harry quickly put a steadying hand on her waist when she started to sway ever so slightly. "Yeah," she agreed again, a bit stronger this time.

This snapped Harry back to reality. He'd just snogged Ginny Weasley...and it had been bloody brilliant.

_Bloody hell._

Guilt settled heavily in his gut, and Harry scrubbed a hand over his mouth, as if trying to undo what he'd just did. He was a total prat. What had he been thinking? His mouth opened to apologize, but before he could Ginny spoke.

"Thanks, Harry," she told him her voice soft and distant. She was tracing her thumb back and forth across her bottom lip. She was staring off at something distant, her gaze a bit wide eyed and glazed.

He didn't know what to say, but he found his grip on her waist tightening as he brought her closer.

This seemed to jolt something in Ginny. With a quick shake of her head she took a step back from him, and Harry reluctantly let her go. "I know that was really uncomfortable for you," she started rambling nervously, "I appreciate your, um. . . help." With that she turned on her heel and left. Leaving Harry alone to reel over what had just taken place.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note**: It's been 6 weeks since I've updated! This is only part of the chapter I wanted to post, but I thought I would give a little something, rather than nothing. My life is slowing a bit, so I will hopefully get back to more frequent updates. Let's have a look inside our dear Ginny's head, shall we?

* * *

_'The thing about chaos, is that while it disturbs us, it too, forces our hearts to roar in a way we secretly find magnificent,'_

_- Christopher Poindexter_

* * *

Ginny found herself running down the corridor away from the abandoned classroom, doing her best to put as much distance between herself and Harry Potter as she possibly could. Her lips were still tingling and she couldn't shake the light headed feeling that his lips had conjured in her.

That had not _at all_ gone according to plan. Merlin, what had she been thinking?

She came to the stairs, her breath coming out in huffs. Her brown eyes were wide and searching. Should she go meet Michael for supper? Could she even face him? More than anything she just wanted to go hide up in her room. Ginny knew she had a telling blush on her cheeks, and her lips felt tender and swollen. Would everyone be able to tell that she'd just been snogged. Thoroughly snogged, by her brother's best friend.

Bloody hell.

Knowing her cheeks were flushing further, she took the stairs two at a time. Ginny could tell she was desperate if she was going to take solace in her least favorite room in Hogwarts. Reaching the first floor, she headed straight for the girl's bathroom.

The red-headed girl quickly pushed through the bathroom door, looking around to make sure that the loo was empty. Thankfully, she was alone. With a heavy sigh, Ginny sank to the floor, doing her best to bring her breathing to a regular pace.

"Someone's come to visit?" came the whining, yet ghostly voice of Moaning Myrtle. Ginny had to stifle a groan.

She looked up to see the ghost of a former Hogwart's student that haunted this bathroom, floating a few meters in front of her. Ginny braced herself. Moaning Myrtle was not a fan of hers since Ginny's first year, when she'd thrown the wretched diary that had changed her life forever, into this bathroom and through the specter who haunted it.

"Yes, Myrtle," Ginny greeted tiredly, looking at the girl.

"Oh," she responded, the ghost's voice suddenly taking on an unfriendly tone. "It's you. The horrible girl who threw a book at me!"

"That's right," Ginny agreed, tiredly.

Moaning Myrtle seemed shocked at the audacity of Ginny returning to this bathroom. "You are a terrible girl, treating me as if I don't have feelings!" Myrtle railed.

"I'm sorry, Myrtle," Ginny apologized reflexively, getting up from her spot by the door, still fighting the light headed state that Harry's lips left her in.

The ghostly girl didn't seem to be listening though, as she continued, "All of you students are awful. Coming in here and making fun of me. You come to apologize to me now? Now that you're older and so pretty. I'm sure all the boys are nice to you, but no boys are nice to me -" Myrtle continued to ramble her furious speech. However, Ginny wasn't listening any more.

The redhead walked over to stand in front of the mirrors and took in her reflection. Her hair was a bit tousled, and she could distinctly remember how it felt when Harry's hands moved from her cheeks to tangle into her locks.

Her lips were still swollen and a deep pink. Unconsciously, she brought a hand up to run her fingers across them again, as the needling thought that plagued her ever since Harry had pulled away from the kiss came to her mind again. Had she just cheated on Michael?

". . . Only Harry Potter was nice to Myrtle," the specter was rambling. His name pulled Ginny out of her thoughts, and her eyes quickly moved to Moaning Myrtle. Could she know?

"Oh, yes! You know Harry Potter!" Myrtle started excitedly. "I remember! When you were just a little girl, he carried you out of here. He is always so sweet!" the ghost crooned and Ginny felt the blush returning to her cheeks. She should have just gone back to the dorms.

"Myrtle, I really don't want to talk right now," Ginny told her, but the ghostly girl paid no mind.

"Oh, yes. Harry Potter. He was so brave when he was a young boy. I remember how he carried you in his arms. He wouldn't let anyone take you from him until your parents came. It was so curious, that I followed through the drain pipes into the sink of the Hospital Wing," she told the the Gryffindor girl.

"Myrtle, stop - " Ginny tried to silence the uncomfortable memories that Myrtle was so keen to bring up.

"He is always so nice!" she continued. "He hasn't come to visit me yet this year, but I saw him last year in the Prefect's bathroom. He was taking a bath!" Myrtle admitted with a giddy squeal.

Yes, coming to the first-floor girl's bathroom had been a huge mistake.

Ginny made for the door, but Myrtle quickly floated in front of her, enjoying the unengaged company.

"He is so fit," Myrtle continued and Ginny rolled her eyes. Yes, Harry was fit. She knew this and so did half the girls in Hogwarts. Ever since fourth year he'd started to broaden out from the lanky, skinny boy who had come from Privet Drive. She'd thought he was handsome even before his shoulders became attractively square, giving a nice contrast between his narrow waist, and before his forearms started to gain a cord-like quality when he rolled up his sleeves.

_Of course_ Harry would hit a growth spurt only months after she'd put the feelings for him behind her. Making her feel all the more small when he stood before her. . . backing her against walls. And if she overheard one more of her silly dorm-mates talking about how his dangerous reputation and brooding attitude this year made him all the more appealing, she just might bat bogey hex them in their sleep!

But, none of that mattered. Attractive or not, Ginny was over him. Merlin, she had a boyfriend! A very handsome and rather popular boyfriend. A boyfriend who looked at her like she was something fantastic. Michael Corner made her feel smart, confident and almost wild. She knew her adventurous nature was very appealing to the somewhat reserved Ravenclaw boy.

Michael was fit as well. No, he didn't play quidditch, but he was just as tall as Harry and looked nice in his uniforms. So, maybe Michael didn't emanate the power that Harry did, when they would argue. But Ginny liked Michael's dark floppy hair that he was always flipping out of his eyes. He was nice and funny, albeit a bit dull sometimes.

What's more, Harry didn't fancy her like that, and more importantly, she didn't fancy Harry.

She hadn't thought about him that way since before the Yule Ball last year. It was so freeing getting over Harry Potter, and it was even more freeing to find that she could have those kind of feelings for another boy. She'd been having a great time with Michael. He'd been an excellent pen pal over the summer holidays, and a rather attentive boyfriend since returning to school. Maybe a bit too attentive at times, but her grades were the best they'd ever been due to Michael's small obsession with studying. That's what you get when you hang out with Ravenclaws.

Things would have been terrific, if only her soul wasn't bonded to the one boy that confused her to no end.

Harry had been so different this year. Sure, he'd always been protective. It was his frustratingly noble nature. He took all the blame for their predicament on himself. Ginny was sure, however, that the blame was actually hers. If she'd never written in that stupid diary. . .

Merlin, she did what he'd asked! She'd moved on, and it had been surprisingly easier than she'd expected. They had even grown to be friends by the end of the last school year, not just two acquaintances stuck in an impossible situation. But this year they argued far more than they ever had before. They also laughed together a lot more.

Ginny knew something had shifted over Christmas holidays. Although she couldn't quite put her finger on what.

Was asking Harry to kiss her a mistake? She wished there was someone she could talk to about the situation. Someone other than herself that could weigh in on the complicated matter. Had she cheated on Michael?

She hadn't meant to.

Sudden anger started to rise in her stomach. The redheaded girl stood silently fuming as Moaning Myrtle continued to regale of Harry Potter's heroics.

Why did she have to be stuck in this awful situation? Why did she have to ask her brother's best friend to kiss her just so she could do the same with her own boyfriend? For Merlin's sake, why did he snog her so thoroughly?! Why did her head spin and her lips tingle as his mouth moved almost expertly over hers. And for Circe's sake why did a sigh escape her lips?

Closing her eyes for a moment, she recalled the sensation of Harry's grip tightening in her hair, and her chin being tilted even higher, as his strong body made contact with hers, pushing her back against the hard wooden door. She'd had to bite her tongue in order to keep from allowing another embarrassing sigh to escape again.

She had no idea snogging would feel so . . . overwhelming.

But, if that's what it felt like to be kissed by someone you didn't like, then it must feel even more amazing to be snogged by the bloke you really fancied.

Yes, that must be true.

Ginny, smiled at the thought, and her shoulders straightened a bit. Everything would be fine. She would continue on with Michael as planned, and Harry could date Cho. Besides, the kiss she and Harry shared was probably nothing compared to Harry's kiss with Cho.

That thought wasn't as comforting as Ginny had expected it to be.

It was time for supper. Michael would be waiting for her outside the Great Hall. Tossing her long red hair over her shoulder, she passed right through the ghostly girl in front of her. Leaving Moaning Myrtle alone to moon over Harry Potter.

* * *

Ginny faked a chuckle as Roger Davies teased Michael about earning a higher mark than her boyfriend on the latest Transfiguration exam. It was conversations like this one that made Ginny miss hanging around more Gryffindors. Ravenclaws, as a whole could be downright insufferable in their competitive nature for grades. It was not lost on Ginny when Michael's face fell after he'd asked her what she'd earned on the reputably brutal fourth year Charm's final at the end of last term. She must have outscored him.

A week had passed since she and Harry had shared their secret kiss in the abandoned classroom. She'd been avoiding him ever since. The whole situation was awkward enough, and she didn't want Harry to think that she'd read anything more into it than a favor. So far she'd been highly successful in her efforts. Taking alternate routes to classes if she knew they would pass in the hall, and Quidditch was a surprising solace.

"You might as well be in Gryffindor, Corner," Anthony Goldstein teased, as they sat in the library revising.

Ginny shot the gold-haired boy a sharp look, "And here, I thought Ravenclaws were supposed to be clever?"

This caused the table of boys to laugh. Although Ginny was less amused.

"That's my girl," Michael said proudly, wrapping his free arm around her shoulders. The jealous looks from the other boys at the table were not lost on her. Ginny sometimes felt that she was considered some mysterious wild creature that Michael's friends liked to watch. He hadn't tried to kiss her again.

She grinned back, although it felt forced.

After a few more silent minutes of scratching quills and flipping pages, Ginny found herself positively restless. "Grabbing a book," she told Michael offhandedly, as she removed his arm from the back of her chair and stood.

The library was full of other students, mostly fifth years working to get a head start on O. W. Ls. Ginny walked to the furthest stacks, just needing to move her legs. She wandered listlessly down the aisle, her hands skimming the spines of the old books absent-mindedly. Her thoughts had been consistently distracted all week.

"Ginny?" came Harry's hushed voice.

The red-haired girl gasped in surprise. Turning, she saw the tall Gryffindor boy leaning sideways against the shelf. He was looking at her strangely, his green eyes somehow dark.

"Merlin, Potter! You really shouldn't sneak up on people," she told him sharply, as her heart rate settled back down. A familiar heat started to rise in her cheeks. Would it always be this awkward between them? Needing a distraction, she plucked a book off a shelf and started flipping through it.

Unaffected by her brush off, he replied, "I didn't mean to sneak up on you. Maybe if you hadn't been avoiding me all week, I wouldn't have to come find you in the back of the library."

Ginny's felt her spine stiffen at the accusation. "Avoiding you?" she feigned, with an uncomfortable chuckle. "Don't be daft, I've just been busy - "

"We need to talk," Harry told her sternly, losing his casual stance to stand squarely in the middle of the aisle. "What happened in the abandoned classroom," Harry added, a forced gentility in his voice, "that was . . . " He seemed a bit lost for words, and Ginny felt the familiar tingle returning to her lips.

Gathering her Gryffindor courage Ginny finished resolutely, "an appreciated favor."

Harry, however, didn't seem too pleased by her choice of words. Ginny noticed the narrowing of his green eyes. "So, you were able to get everything worked out then?" He asked tautly, while taking a few angry steps towards her.

"That's really none of your business," she whispered back harshly, turning and jamming the book back into its spot on the shelf.

She could feel the energy pulsing off of him as he took her by the elbow and turned her around. His long arm resting on a shelf above her. "It isn't?" Harry asked her quietly, his face surprisingly close to hers.

"Harry," she warned, putting a hand on his hard chest and gently pushing him back. He let himself be displaced, but did not step out of her touch. "You have Cho, and I have Michael," she reasoned, unsure what she was explaining to him.

Harry was looking down at her with a hard expression, "About that - "

"There you are, Weasley," Michael greeted, his tone not his usual lightness.

Feeling like she'd been caught doing something she shouldn't, Ginny quickly pulled her hand off Harry's chest, and turned towards her boyfriend. Harry, however, did not seem as concerned about their appearance and stayed standing close, his arms crossed.

"Hello, Michael," Harry greeted with equal coolness. Ginny shot him a stern look.

"Everything alright, Ginny?" Michael asked curiously, his eyes moving back and forth between the two.

"Yes," the red haired girl answered tensely, leaving Harry's side to go to Michael's.

When Ginny reached him, Michael pulled her under his long arm, all the while keeping his glaring brown eyes fixed on Harry. "Let's go," Michael told her simply, turning them around.

"Ginny," Harry called after them, and Ginny felt Michael's body stiffen. With a huff, she turned back. "We can finish this conversation later."

Michael turned back at this. "You know, Harry. You really concern yourself a lot with my girlfriend," the Ravenclaw boy accused.

Harry barely flinched, "Well, someone's got to."

"What exactly are you trying to say?" Michael asked heatedly.

"Enough!" Ginny whispered furiously, having had her fill of whatever this confusing testosterone filled exchange was. Pulling herself away from Michael's arm, she shot a warning glance over to Harry before turning and stalking back to the study tables.

What in the world had gotten into those boys? Ginny was furious and frankly confused at what had just taken place between the stacks. The studying boys greeted her as she approached the table.

"Where's Michael?" asked a curious Terry Boot.

Ginny gathered her books, furiously jamming them into her satchel as she answered with a churlish, "Who cares?"

This earned another amused look to be shared amongst the Ravenclaws, and the fourth year wanted to scream. She was not here for their amusement.

Just as she'd managed to snap her bag closed, an annoyed Michael reached the table. "Good night, Michael," she told him stiffly, refusing to meet his eyes. Without waiting for a response, she pulled her bag over her shoulder and left the library.

Ginny could have growled when she heard one of the boys encourage Michael to go after his 'feisty Gryffindor girlfriend.'

It wasn't until she was halfway down the corridor that Michael caught up with her.

"Oi, Weasley, would you slow down?"

Ginny ignored his request, as Michael walked briskly next to her.

"Just leave me alone, Michael," she told him, continuing on.

The tall boy gave out a huff, responding, "He likes you."

Ginny laughed at his ludicrous accusations, "No," she answered pointedly, "he doesn't."

Michael rolled his eyes. "Yes, he does," he told her simply.

Ginny stopped for a moment to face her boyfriend, "Michael," she reasoned, putting a calming hand on his arm. "I've known him since I was ten years old. He doesn't see me that way. He's like. . . he's like a brother."

Michael looked down at her consideringly. "You have enough brothers," he told her, and Ginny knew that he was referring to the dark looks he'd been getting from Fred, George and Ron, since they'd found out about their relationship.

"I agree," she replied tiredly, walking again in the direction of the dorms.

Michael followed silently for a while. "I don't like the way he looks at you," he spoke as they turned down an empty corridor.

Ginny sighed, he must really be seeing things. "And how does he look at me?" she asked flatly.

"Like you're his."

She stopped cold as she processed what Michael had just said. She turned to face her boyfriend who had a dejected look on his face. With a gentle smile she reached up and cupped his soft cheek.

"Well, I'm not," she told him, and Ginny was suddenly struck with the notion that she wasn't sure if that was entirely true.

Michael seemed to take comfort in her words and wrapped his arms around her waist. She let him, as she decided whether she was angry at him, or Harry, or both. The dark haired boy smiled down at his girlfriend. "Because you're mine?" he asked affectionately, and before she could respond his lips were on hers.

For a moment, Ginny was frozen, not quite believing that Michael was actually kissing her. She'd wanted this, but now as his lips pressed against her, she wasn't quite sure. The memory of Harry kissing her flashed into her mind, she fought against it. She squeezed her brown eyes shut, forcing the memory back. Her hands came up to wrap around Michael's neck, as she slid her lips across his. Surely the light headed feeling would be coming soon.

Michael pulled away for a moment, only to bring his lips back to hers, and she kissed him back with fervor. Her lips would start tingling at any moment now. But they didn't.

They pulled away. Michael was panting, with a goofy grin across his handsome face.

"Wow," he breathed, and Ginny wondered why she didn't share the same sentiment.


End file.
